Custom concern

Their custom concern for the people Build up the monuments and steeples To wear out our eyes I get up just about noon My head sends a message for me to reach for my shoes then walk Gotta go to work, gotta go to work, gotta get a job Goes through the parking lot fields Doesn't see no signs that they will yield And then thought, this'll never end This'll never end, this'll never stop Message read on the bathroom wall Says, "I don't feel at all like I fall." And we're losing all touch, losing all touch Building a desert