Forgotten Fields

In the tree-lined cities and forgotten fields

Some are born too pretty, some are born too real

Some to death-wish pity, while the selfish steal some ground

It's all just hunchbacked plans to stumped to feel

As the rise of man names his price to deal

It's "look ma, no hands" on the steering wheel, going round

Goes round, goes round, goes round, slows down

Some are early bloom, some are made to wait

Some arrive too soon, some leave too late

Some think the moon can navigate their life round

Life round, life round, life round, lives round

Hey... can't you see?

What will be...

Can't you see?

Hey... can't you see?

What will be...

Can't you see?

It's behind you

It's behind you

It's behind you

It's behind you

Look behind you

Look behind you

Look behind you

Look behind you

Hey... can't you see?

What will be...

Can't you see?

Hey... can't you see?

What will be...

Can't you see?

Hey... can't you see?

What will be...

Can't you see?