People walking around, faceless in the crowd,

O what a wonderful world.

Brainless in their own heads, to themselves they're dead,

O what a wonderful world.

They go to and fro, walking in circles,

day in and day out, but never really going anywhere.

O what a wonderful world.

The masses blindly look ahead, and they have no goals,

Just to go along, and to get along,

O what a wonderful world.

And when they stop, they're so tired, and they drop.

But the young, so full of promise, follow this clear-cut line in the street.

And when people get tired of walking and stop,

they find that it's pointless to resist.

And the few good men fall, their blood on the masses feet.

O what a wonderfully awful world.