There was a high pressure low developing off the coast of Africa
Uplift in the atmosphere, push waves across the ocean
Towards Antilles and Bon Air
While I paced in agitation
I drew the curtains closed
I set the air conditioner low
I pressed a warm washcloth to my face
Somewhere out there a hurricane is coming
There's just no future left for us to dream of
Living in an era of instability
So caught up in the culture of their rivals, fear breeds in honest men
It's a high pressure low
Seven missiles flying over the sea of Japan
Tales of feral children sleeping in wolf dens
And the pious preacher commands
I hold my breath in anticipation
Into the shelter of the jungle noble savages run
Vestal virgins triumph over lifelong inhibitions
And I wonder
What is real, what is fiction
There's just no future left for us to dream of
Living in an era of instability
So caught up in the culture of their rivals, fear breeds in honest men
It's a high pressure low
Would anyone forgive Robert McNamara?
In retrospect he had to admit
There was mistake in going to war
Without first asking all the questions
Yes, Robert Strange McNamara
There are those who just cannot forget
And I wonder
Have I left my own compassion?
There's just no future left for us to dream of
Living in an era of instability
So caught up in the culture of their rivals, fear breeds in honest men
It's a high pressure low