[Kazoo cover of "Those Who Carried On" plays]

Inside their little world,

they tried to be understood,

but all that came of it was a mess

So sort it out in conversations

Devout apparitions

would say they're horrid nonetheless

Once more, their heads are caving in

There's a window that 
jarred on their conscience

Once more, they've left remembering

To the people who picked 
up their arms and legs

And carried on

They pulled apart their 
own ego at the seams,

and spilled their organs everywhere

Caught in polarized degrees,

they may decay again, so beware

These are people too backwards to die out

They may never escape from the rise, now

They may never come back

Crumbling still,

their little world rebuilt

what couldn't be endured

Now, there's nothing left to go to waste

So sort it out with new perspectives

Reused and defective,

they challenged odds face-to-face

Once more, their head had caved in

and their past lingered 
nearby a locked door

Once more, they had revisited

something over and over and over again,

and carried on

So after all these years,

they remained a form of art

'cause they had problems

from the start

Though they acted on a dare,

there's nothing stopping them so beware

These are people too fearless to die out

Though they'll ever escape 
from the rise

now...

You'd say that things have improved,

right?

You'd say that things have improved,

right?