Written by: J Beck
Shapes of things before my eyes
Just teach me to despise
Will time make men more wise
Here within my lonely frame
my eyes just heard my brain
But will it seem the same
Come tomorrow, will I be older
Come Tomorrow, may be a soldier
Come Tomorrow, may I be bolder than today?
Now the trees are almost green
But will they still be seen?
When time and tide have been
Fall into your passing hands
Please don't destroy these lands
Don't make them desert sands
Chorus
Soon I hope that I will find,
Thoughts deep within my mind
That won't displace my kind