The Future

©1991 Andrew Calhoun, unrecorded

I know what's coming, babe
I know what's coming
In spite of all our guessing
In spite of all our wondering
I know what's coming, babe

The future's not a promise
The future's not a bomb
The future's in the old clay
Flowerpot in the barn

A herald ran from Rome
And he never came home
Thought he was a free man
Fell into the master plan
I know what's coming, babe

Many million gone
Wonder where they went
Left to cry in a dusty place
Lost in the experiment

Close your eyes, my darling
Close your eyes and hold my hand
We were resting on an airplane
We were flying over Greenland

All choice and no choice
Free souls and slaves
Morning sends the airplanes' shadow
Slipping through the waves
Slipping through the waves