It’s the age of the Micro Man, who sees the detail but never
The plan
It’s the time of the tiny creep, who pulls the levers
While he falls asleep
Twenty five years of social research
It’s the age of the insect man who pushes buttons
And takes back the can
It’s the age of the Micro Man who sees the detail but never
The plan
Twenty five years of social research
Twenty five years of social research