Fickle Sun (i) Brian Eno

And on the day the work is done
We toil away in fickle sun
And on the day the wire is spun
And so the dismal work is done

All over here it's darkened still
A cumulus of pride and will
Dissolved in all the oil and steam
The will of all our hopeless schemes

The line is long, the line is great
And humans turning back to clay
Right there beneath the fickle sun
The empty eyes, the end begun

Oh, the crew is done

Now the boats are all astray
There's no one rowing anyway
There's no one rowing anymore
The end has come, the men ashore

All the boys are going down
Falling over, one night gone
All the boys are turned around
Long for soldiers everyone
All the boys are falling down
Fallen to ashes in the ground