The morning meant as little
As the ten thousand odd before
We'd been ignoring signs for weeks and weeks
And just went to work

Then we drove out to the desert
Thought we'd take a picture in
Should have known journey ended
Well before it could even begin

The ticket booth was empty
There wasn't a car in sight
We couldn't come so far for naught
There'd better be a show tonight

There is no one at the projector
There is no one minding the store
This stage and this screen, long left behind
No one to sing, no one to pretend anymore

The sky opened up
I just put your hand in mine
We stared out at the empty lot
And hoped the show would start on time

The clouds, they danced around the portal
We never once had dreamed we weren't immortal

Most of us would look to opt out
We could not maintain this dollhouse
A future of rolling dust
On a blasted land

There is no one at the projector
There is no one minding the store
Heaven could be crashing to earth
We'd still complain "that wasn't what we paid for"

Stakes nothing less than our survival
But somehow we still feel entitled
To being entertained
So long as someone can
Okay...

But there is no one at the projector
There is no one minding the store
This stage and this screen, long left behind
No one to sing, no one to pretend anymore

There is no one at the projector
There is no one minding the store
Heaven could be crashing to earth
We'd still complain "that wasn't what we paid for"

Is it too late to hope this is all is a dream?