The shows we watched when we were kids Jetsons' spacecars, Apollo ships That we could shrink the world to fit The big dreams of broken kids That someday, skyways, speedtrains and flying cars Would keep us safe from the fools we are; Genetics and bionics could Make this place a bit more honest; That we would know we stayed good on the promise That love was a war worth fighting, And that someday the war would end. The distance, and the moral conflict Of living far from how we wanted The arc of our lives was something we could bend I wrapped my hopes in everything ahead. But in the backseat of somebody else's car, There would be a price for having gone this far: That we could live with broken hearts, We couldn't stand to see the pieces laying so far apart. We finally climbed the steel high rise To see the world we'd left behind, That the years would be so unkind to us. We'd shy away in horror at what we'd done, That good intentions just weren't enough. That all these years spent fighting, And still we're only here Still without peace, still without cure Still without peace, still without cure Still without peace, still without cure For Loneliness, For Hatred, Depression, And Regret: The memory of you that I cannot forget. 'Cause it's in my skin like the sutures: These past ideas of the future.