In the tree lined cities in forgotten fields Some are born too pretty, some are born too real Some to death wish pity, while the selfish steal Some ground So just hunch back plans to start to feel As the rise of man names his price to deal It’s look ma, no hands on the steering wheel Going 'round, goes 'round, slows down Some are early blooms, some are made to wait Some arrive too soon, some way too late Some think the moon can navigate Life round Hey, can’t you see What will be? Can’t you see? It’s behind you What’s behind you Look behind you Hey, can’t you see What will be? Can’t you see?
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