A headline of eight short words convicts me They’re pulling the world from underneath me Face the wall, don’t break at the knees, don’t fall
I’ve got to go, I won’t go so easy
I may be low but I’m not beaten til I see
Where are we, and where we will be You cannot follow me, trace my patterns
Running back over all that’s happened til I see
Where are we, and where we will be Screening my calls to keep them guessing
The horror of all that they’re suggesting
Face the crowd, baying for blood, so loud
I’ve got to go, I won’t go so easy
I may be low but I’m not beaten til I see
Where are we, and where we will be Media tries my reputation
Peddles it to a howling nation, will we see
Where are we, and where it leaves me
I’ve got to go, but I’m not going easy …