They're going to throw the switch tonight to turn the filters on

Soon certan ways of thinking will be forever gone

"The New Age Of Serenity" they say it's going to be

but this gun against my head says that the bastards won't get me.

Waiting for "The Switching Hour" I think where this began

bank acounts and smartphones in the hands of all of Man

While the phone booths fled like Tardises, and coins to cash cards fell

and without your electronics you weren't anyone at all

It wasn't long from then until the culturally hip

replaced their phones and tablets with a brain-inserted chip

All the knowdlege in the world downloadable to mind

and mentally facebooking Communion for mankind.

A few years down the track, with our newfeeds as our teachers

Society rose to stand behind the one voice of the preachers

"Enough of human misery, wars and famine and such stuff.

Put a filter through our chips to turn those newsfeeds off"

I hear that there's a colony, out in the country scrub

where people share their knowledge in the bar of a local pub

And think without direction.. I'd love it there I'd bet,

but the censors scrubbed it from the maps of our inner Internet

And now we sing out songs of love while waiting inner peace

Any second now all guilt and worrying will cease

For me it will be different, I'd rather die alone

than spend my life obeying commands as a programmed, mindless drone

If my avatar had wings just like the folksong's turtle dove

Back through time I'd fly, to days when people carried  love

to care about the problems, to want to share the pain

It breaks my heart to think that times like that won't come again