Shapes of Things

Shapes of things before my eyes

Just help me to despise

Will time make men more wise?

Here within my broken frame

My eyes just heard 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 older 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 displace my kind