I want to be a dinosaur, a fossil of times come before. Extinction seems bleak, but I shudder to think of not knowing when my time has come. And I hope when it comes that I know. Well they busted the block in '65 and we scattered like ash far and wide To these places we made as if molded from clay, too thick for the roots to survive And the rules of the game from when we were young get more faded and faded with time But the kid seems alright, but because or in spite, I don't know, what the struggle was for And worse than the devils you think that you knew, Are the ones you believe into life. But hope's not the same as belief. Which in turn's not the same, as knowing by name, that the worst of your fears are misplaced. Let it go. And I hope when it comes that I know.