Shapes of things before my eyes,
|
Just teach me to despise.
|
Will time make men 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, may be 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.
|
Fall into your passing hands.
|
Please don't destroy these lands.
|
Don't make them desert sands.
|
|
[Chorus, Lead.]
|
|
Soon I hope that I will find,
|
Thoughts deep within my mind.
|
That won't disgrace my kind.
|
|
-----------------
|
Shapes Of Things
|
| Scorpions |
