Shapes Of Things To Come

Shapes Of Things To Come

Here, within my lonely frame.
My eyes just hurt my brain.
But will it seem the same?

Come tomorrow, will I be older?
Come tomorrow, maybe a soldier?
Come tomorrow, will I be bolder than today?

Now, the trees are almost green.
But will they still be seen
When time and tide have been?

Soon, I hope that I will find
Thoughts deep within my mind
That won't disgrace my kind.

Come tomorrow, will I be older?
Come tomorrow, maybe a soldier?
Come tomorrow, will I be bolder than today?

Shapes of things before my eyes
Just teach me to dispise.
Will time make man more wise?