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Shapes of things before my eyes, |
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Just teach me to despise. |
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Will time make men more wise? |
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Here within my lonely frame, |
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My eyes just hurt my brain. |
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But will it seem the same? |
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Come tomorrow, will I be older? |
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Come tomorrow, may be a soldier. |
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Come tomorrow, may I be bolder than today? |
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Now the trees are almost green. |
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But will they still be seen? |
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When time and tide have been. |
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Fall into your passing hands. |
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Please don't destroy these lands. |
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Don't make them desert sands. |
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Chorus, Lead. |
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Soon I hope that I will find, |
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Thoughts deep within my mind. |
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That won't disgrace my kind. |
