When we're gonna know everything that we should know,
When we will believe only things that suit our ends,
We'll become intercontinental
Our telephones will become our friens.
All's well: that's our task
Our path to the golden sky pass
But when everybody goes, Lord allow me
Dapple-grey stones on the green morning grass.
When the storm began to force us inside
The wind carried those, those who weren't of our taste.
When the heavens open above, will you be so sure
Who saved you, and who left you to waste?
There in science written on your face,
In your head helicopters mass,
But going out the door, better not trample
Dapple-grey stones on the green morning grass.
You know what I sing about
Striking up a fire.
You know what I sing about
The snow-white swans are headed toward the land.
We stood at the crossroads
No time to move ahead.
To go back our honor won't allow us, I fear.
It isn't even clear, what people like us
Are still doing in these backwaters here.
When you vanish in your own mirror's glass,
Having never understood that there are two paths,
I will stay and grieve until the sun rises up
Over living stones on the green morning grass.
