It's alright,
It's okay,
Ask me about tomorrow,
Only here today.
And as for next week,
As for next year
The future, my regards
Know I'll be here.

They say people are getting better,
People are okay.
But you see everything can be narrowed down
Into the truth behind you.
You just gotta know where to look,
You gotta know where to find it.

They say they built a pawn shop
Right on the spot where the Devil fell,
Because even when you are broke
You still got something you can sell.

Hell, the guy on the podium says he sells truth
But you can smell all the politics on his breath.
He's been doing too many shots of taxes and death.

There's a guy on my street corner
Who says he sells freedom.
He'll even give me the needles if I'm broke,
If I need 'em.
But you see I know what I'm missin'
So I ain't gotta try it,
Because freedom ain't freedom
If you gotta buy it.

But I have no grand plan
For the great escape
And even though I got a pretty decent cape in my closet
When I rip open my shirt
There is no "S" on my chest.

I'm no superman,
No adopted bulletproof saviour of the earth.
I'm just like everyone else,
I have to be slapped on the ass at birth.
But for what it's worth,
I'm more like Clark Kent.

A journalist of the humanities
That tells it like it is,
And now I'm telling you
We live in a world where Darth Vader reminds us:
"This is CNN".

But even Darth Vader stuttered
When we hard about these kids
Who turned their school into a shooting range.
And the whole world sat by like a baby in a shitty diaper,
Crying out for change.

And it's alright,
It's okay,
Ask me about tomorrow,
Only here today.
And as for next week,
As for next year,
The future, my regards
Know I'll be here.

But what about the grade ten dropouts
With the grade two reading levels
That play Russian Roulette with guns
That they found on their playground.
Whispering "Don't worry,
Even if it does happen
It will take less than a minute".
Because I guess, even the word "funeral"
Still has the word "fun" in it.

And in order to reinsure ourselves,
We listen to people,
Because people say that people are getting better.
People are okay.

But if you look outside your window
The children aren't playing marbles or jacks,
They are vengefully stepping on cracks
To break their mother's backs
When they can't have their way.

Sure, people are getting better.
People are okay.

And we send our children running towards the future
As if the future is the place to be.
And all we can see is the hope bleeding out of their eyes
As they look up and watch the airlines plummet from the skies.

And they run past a young girl in a small cubby hole
Full of corroding cement,
Because she doesn't run anymore.
See, she's already dropped out of the race
And incase you couldn't tell
By looking at the lesions on her face,
She hangs a cardboard sign around her neck that reads:
"I have AIDS,
Please, leave me alone".

And the kids put more quarters into the phone
And then cry into the flat line of the dial tone,
And Mum and Dad say,
"No, you can't come home".

And it's alright,
It's okay,
Ask me about tomorrow,
Only here today,
As for next week,
As for next year
The future, my regards,
Know I'll be here.

They say, people are getting better.
People are okay.
But I can only say that none of this is okay.
The world is not okay.
And I'm no better then anyone else,
I'm looking for answers.
Stumbling around in the dark,
Curling up like a question mark
Because I don't know what to do.
But I know you have to care about the world
Because it doesn't care about you.

Комментарии