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I think it was Thursday, I think it was late... 1938
Got a letter from Hiro, he'd left out the date
He said he was waiting for an outbreak

Took a look in the mirror, it should have been me
But there was nothing to see
Pulled a thought from the curtains and I went downstairs
It was utterly futile, so I combed my hair

All the kids in the factory say
My letter from Hiro came too late

Communication leaves me out of touch
You say it means nothing, well, nothing much
Like the sign on the door, too hard too see too soft to touch
The Age of Reason is out to lunch

All the kids in the factory say
My letter from Hiro came too late

5 o'clock in the morning sun rising in my hand
And I'm not quite sure if I'm just insecure or if the problem
Is simply that I really don't understand
'bout the guns and the crossfire and the social disease
And when the sun was rising somewhere in the East
And when a flag meant more to Hiro than to me

All the kids in the factory say
My letter from Hiro came too late