pa says it's the death of a nation
as he turns all the newspaper pages
pa says it's the death of a nation
all the nickel grabbers and the temptation
we're all birds and we're locked up in cages
there aint a soul who'll come down and save us
our future was then our future was then
think it over and over again
cold food served on paper plates
theatre seating on produce crates
mad mobs they crash the gates
thousands stream in from outta state
the teen preacher he bangs his fist
on the pulpit built out of sticks
all the cynics they slit their wrists
on my forehead he plants a kiss
our future was then our future was then
think it over and over again
its just a mystery to me ancient history to me
ancient history to me its still a mystery to me
our future was then our future was then
think it over and over again
our future was then