I look out my window to a blinding bright light
Enola passes, passes by
Tomorrow, tomorrow, a look at tomorrow
Hysterical men women and children
Run in search of their families
Tomorrow, tomorrow, a look at tomorrow
I look out of my window to a blinding bright light
Enola passes, passes by
Tomorrow, tomorrow, a look at tomorrow
Skin is shed like that of snakes
But it's not the work of mother nature
Tomorrow, tomorrow, a look at tomorrow