| You’ve exited the freeway
|
| And you’re sitting at the light
|
| And the man there with the homeless sign
|
| Is looking right at you
|
| So you fidget with the radio
|
| And pretend to fix your hair
|
| As you’re slowly pulling forward
|
| So the mirror blocks your view
|
| Obsessed with the all-seeing eye
|
| We live our lives on film
|
| We’ve all but given up on private space
|
| This is what you had for lunch
|
| And here you’re hanging with your friends
|
| I got to know your breasts
|
| Before I ever saw your face
|
| (Welcome to the world of tomorrow
|
| It’s all over now)
|
| Open your eyes, get out of bed
|
| You’re nearly dead, you’re nearly dead
|
| Pretty fly now rest your head
|
| Sleeping in your water bed
|
| Birdie finally knows you’re dead
|
| Crown of hyacinths instead
|
| You’re crying as the legends die
|
| And I understand the loss
|
| But what about the woman down the block
|
| It was weeks before they discovered her
|
| Because she lived alone
|
| And all that you could manage was
|
| «Well that’s the way it goes»
|
| (Welcome to the world of tomorrow
|
| It’s all over now)
|
| Open your eyes, get out of bed
|
| You’re nearly dead, you’re nearly dead
|
| Pretty fly now rest your head
|
| Sleeping in your water bed
|
| Birdie finally knows you’re dead
|
| Crown of hyacinths instead
|
| Waiting for the preacher
|
| Pressed against the window pane
|
| Leaning on the everlasting
|
| Notes of your refrain
|
| Rifle on your knee
|
| You sing the descant all the same
|
| The fly went to the river
|
| And was never seen again
|
| World of tomorrow
|
| It’s all over now
|
| It’s all over now |