In the tree-lined cities and forgotten fields Some are born too pretty, some are born too real Some to death-wish pity, while the selfish steal some ground It's all just hunchbacked plans to stumped to feel As the rise of man names his price to deal It's "look ma, no hands" on the steering wheel, going round Goes round, goes round, goes round, slows down Some are early bloom, some are made to wait Some arrive too soon, some leave too late Some think the moon can navigate their life round Life round, life round, life round, lives round Hey... can't you see? What will be... Can't you see? Hey... can't you see? What will be... Can't you see? It's behind you It's behind you It's behind you It's behind you Look behind you Look behind you Look behind you Look behind you Hey... can't you see? What will be... Can't you see? Hey... can't you see? What will be... Can't you see? Hey... can't you see? What will be... Can't you see?