Future, take these eyes of mine
I don't want the things they see
Can't stand the common ground
Won't swallow what they believe
No, I won't
Lovely sand of the Westworld storm
Children of the graveyard grave
You all clap your hands for tomorrow's fire
And you set the standard for your true escape
But my friend, you ain't no friend
My friend of tomorrow
I was born blessed with a voice of concrete broke
In a dress made of water from a long gone rain
And you pass the words from the greener shelter
Yeah, you pass the wisdom of a long gone pain
But my friend, you ain't no friend
My friend of tomorrow