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