I'm lying here in bed, waiting for life's next move.
Life is like a car that keep's passing the corner
of Time Ave and Space Place.
Life rolls through these streets
is Time Ave and Space Place.
We navigate forward through time and space.
We have a choice, but aren't sure where is lives.
Signs everywhere read, "NO U TURNS",
but those are signs.
Signs can be manipulated; they're on our payroll, man.
Today's Einstein placeholders are lacking spectacles.
Their eyes are focused on the some prize that was burned
shortly after Salk defended the top star,
top dog, Sol.
Sol isn't a slave, said Salk;
can't be owned;
can't put Him through a meter.
U TURN sign lobbyists can get those signs
to leave their posts, though
after all, signs are employed by the government.
the white screen of ignorance, but it's not our fault.
There are no icons in the future,
the monitor is monitoring, but displays nothing.
the black screen of memory and let's not accept blame.
The past is awash in icons, the monitors are obsolete.
Life's been burned into them and it looks bad, it looks permanent.
Cars go forward, past Time Ave and Space Place
Time Ave and Space Place
Time Ave and Space Place.
hell, put the damn thing in reverse.
Ah, but we don't know where reverse is;
we have that choice, but we can't find it.
Physicists, lobbyists, take the signs down.
If you can't lend a hand- - well, you know
just lying back,
waiting for life's next move.
"A man is rich in proportion to the number of things he can afford to let alone." - Henry David Thoreau