If you want to sing out
sink in
and if you want to be free
be tin
cause there's a million waves of bees
you know that there are
you, no, thee that argh
you oh, you know, you are there, where there are airs, where there are errors pushing out heirs.

Were are the children they said were the future, and yet we are already over with, and the ones they follow, claiming to be all new, look and act like the ones who came and went before we were born.

So what?
Should we sweat it?
Does it really make us to be called the best or the worst, last or first?

She was a girlish woman, a woman, who was past the voting age.