The fire lights play on me,
The choir ignites behind me.
The rising voice of discontent,
Of the guardian angels.
You can bang the drum,
Look what we've become.

I hope there might be one of us,
Who calls the tune,
Last day of June.

The so called third dimension,
It hardly deserves a mention.
The first and second stages,
They've been confused for ages.
Knowledge has been lost,
But how much does it cost?

I hope there might be one of us,
Who calls the tune,
Last day of June.

Who breaks the news,
Last day of June.

The city draws it's breath in,
I can almost hear it thinking.
There are people within my walls
With this God as order,
Driving there machines,
Swarming like a million bees.

I hope there might be one of us,
Who calls the tune,
Last day of June.

Who speaks the truth,
Last day of June.

Who breaks the news.