Science never sleeps — so I'm singing it a lullaby,
Of wolves in sheeps clothing — devils in disguise,
And lab-coats draped over big black lies.
They cover their stupidity by calling it «stupology»,
Rearrange your world without one word of apology,
Make a man-made-soul so small it fits inside your pocket,
When you die they'll shoot it up to heaven in a rocket.
We've made tomorrow world — a Nirvana for the damned.
We've made tomorrow world — Mother Earth on Fatherland?
We've made tomorrow world — we're the cause and the effect.
We've made tomorrow world — could George Orwell be correct?
Science never sleeps — so I'm singing it a lullaby,
Of wolves in sheeps clothing — devils in disguise,
And lab-coats draped over big black lies.
Science never weeps — for the life beneath the microscope.
We are the human amebae that helplessly float
In a final solution — suspend in hope.
Let me show you something hideous,
Insidious, creeping and libidinous.
The worst laid plans of men with mice,
Wielding scalpels — laboratory sacrifice.
Great for the economy — destroying our ecology.
Unscrupulous, malicious — yet chemically delicious.
Science never sleeps — so I'm singing it a lullaby,
Of wolves in sheeps clothing — devils in disguise,
And lab-coats draped over big black lies.
Science never weeps — for the life beneath the microscope.
We are the human amebae that helplessly float
In a final solution — suspend in hope.
Will we shiver in dark centuries of cryogenic winter,
Or be vaporized to ashes when atoms start to splinter?
A case of heads or tails — it's their coin so they can choose,
Breed creatures born with two of either so they cannot lose.
We've made tomorrow world — a Nirvana for the damned.
We've made tomorrow world — Mother Earth on Fatherland?
We've made tomorrow world — we're the cause and the effect.
We've made tomorrow world — could George Orwell be correct?
Science never sleeps — so I'm singing it a lullaby,
Of wolves in sheeps clothing — devils in disguise,
And lab-coats draped over big black lies.
Science never weeps — for the life beneath the microscope.
We are the human amebae that helplessly float
In a final solution — suspend in hope.