I choked out that
son of a bitch metaphor
Didn't have the heart to kill him
but I showed that bum the door
who'd cast a dark spell
that had bound our hands
and killed the dream inside us
to reach the farther lands
everyone scratching mandalas
on their pocket computers
oh hell we picked this
from a thousand million futures
I guess we'll see every green field
turned to drifting sands
before we reignite our passion
for seeing farther lands
but I won't tie my wagon
to this race or age
Whatever dim dull fate
I've got my very own page
And since only such a one
ever knows where he stands
lift your head up and say
you'll join me running for
the farther lands
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