Future Song Songtext
von Dick Heckstall‐Smith

Walked into swing doors
Climbing through dusty windows
Walked in the dark museum
Wandering in gambling green belts
Fell into futures
Lined up in dusty raving rows
Slept on the tables
Covered in gambling green felt

But the place you have to find is not inside
When you take the road to cities of last night


Laughed in the dark rooms
Basins where faces had flowers
Danced in the lighthouse
Grinning at seas under black foam
Fell into mirrors
Faces that time overpowered
Prized open parliament
Places the inmates had outgrown

But I came back home to pick up my beliefs
And I found them drawn and bound in fields of green

Went through the records
Lied that the reapers had planted
Went down the river
Past all the free floating paces
Tried hard to stop the crash
Everyone took it for granted
Passed by the front doors
Holding on by the braces

But the place you have to find is not inside
When you take the road to cities of last night