We never get our tack backsnWe never get our ownnWe never give the chances for the powers to atonenWe always see the downsidenWe always feel aggrievednWe always get the impression that we have been deceivednnCHORUS:nHello?nAre you listening?nWhen did your eyes stop glistening?nI knownWhat you've been missingnBut it's too late to turn backnnWe tell ourselves not to worrynClaiming our day will comenExhaust fumes filtrate through our lungsnWe frown upon the literarynStriving for the normnWe throw away the persona with which we were bornnnCHORUS:nHello?nAre you listening?nWhen did your eyes stop glistening?nI knownWhat you've been missingnBut it's too late to turn back