One

Here the man draws the line for separation. (Old Vision). Watch the man build up his walls for isolation. (You make division). Walk no mile, I'm sick and tired, of all the cowards at the radio station. No cathartic plot to thicken, to quote the vernacular, I'd say that you're chicken. Chorus: We're going nowhere, and it's happening fast, a dim future, and a darker past. Somewhere away from here, from past mistakes they often learn, at Fahrenheit 451, you close your doors and let it burn.