Lyrics
This is an expedition!
Into the Arctic TUNDRA.
This is a sick inhibition, yeah!
Just to spoil and PLUNDER.
That's the sound of another door shutting in,
In the face of progress, in the face of progress.
They'll plant their flags in the seabed
Shackleton is rolling in his grave.
That's the sound of another door shutting in,
In the face of progress, in the face of progress.
They'll plant their flags in the seabed
Shackleton is rolling in his grave.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, we're all addicted to the most abusive and destructive drug of all time,
And I ain't talking about class As – that business is minuscule when compared.
And just like any addict desperate to get his next fix,
We resort to committing crimes to secure our next hit.
You know there's oil in the ICE,
You know there's oil in my EYES,
You know there's blood on my HANDS.
Yeah, we're all addicted.
Yeah, we're all dependent.
That's the maniac standpoint,
Psychotic outlook.
That's the maniac standpoint,
Psychotic outlook.
That's the sound of another door shutting in,
In the face of progress, in the face of progress.
They'll plant their flags in the seabed
Shackleton is rolling in his grave.
That's the sound of another door shutting in,
In the face of progress, in the face of progress.
They'll plant their flags in the seabed
Shackleton is rolling in his grave.
So let me get this straight; as we witness the ice-caps melt,
Instead of being inspired into changing our ways,
We're gonna invest into military hardware to fight for the remaining oil that's left beneath the ice?
But what happens when it's all gone? You haven't thought this through, have you boys?
We'll take you down!
We'll take you down!
We'll take you down!
STAND YOUR GROUND.
You know there's oil in the ICE,
You know there's oil in my EYES,
You know there's blood on my HANDS.
Yeah, we're all addicted.
Yeah, We're all dependent.
That's the maniac standpoint,
Psychotic outlook.
That's the maniac standpoint.
Yeah, back to the drawing board boys.
Accept nothing short of complete reversal.
Dig deep.