When I become was
And we become were
Will there be any sign, or a trace?
Of the lovely contour of your face?
And will there be someone around
With essentially my kinda sound?
When am turns to was
And now is back when
Will someone have moments like this?
Moments of unspoken bliss
And will there be heroes and saints?
Or just a dark new age of complaints?
When I become was
And we become were
Will there be any Susans and Ralphs
Lookin' at old photographs
And wondering aloud to a friend
What was it like to be them?
