"Ten thousand jaded tourists
who’ve traded in their hearts and hands for
disposable cameras, set to document to decay,
set to capture just enough of life to catalogue the things we throw away.

(…breathing the fumes of our machines…)
We’ve lost our way.
(…breathing through television dreams…)

If we could only see us now.
If we could only see us now.”

Thrice - “So Strange I Remember You”