Shapes of things before my eyes

Just teach me to despise

Will time make man more wise?

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 despise

Will time make man more wise?