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​The Future

This song is by The Little Hands of Asphalt and appears on the album Leap Years (2009).

They tell me New York City's cold this time of year
With the way the Atlantic flows, almost as cold as it gets here
But that current's on the move, to pursue a new career
Led on by the scars in the atmosphere

So back here in a tiny town we'll need more electricity
Till the mains fill our brains with Kilgorean (?) chemistry
But even such distractions lose their potency
When the ocean silently agrees

It was had to keep her warm last night, in some draughty Brooklyn bar
I guess I'll pledge my loyalty to the heat of the passing cars

And I'll retain the warmth, the winter can not recall
Dispense it a clumsy "please", written on some digital wall
Hopeful my 24 weeks among (?) healthy animals
Will still keep me in the thrall

Of course, there's no resolve, the confusion's too severe
But you used to kiss the lobe before whispering in my ear
I think that that's the trouble with seeing things my dear
Nothing is ever clear

And your views were surely accurate
But I'm done with accuracy
Because once I could see the future
But the future couldn't see me
And now I'm stuck between our teeth
With the lies we couldn't tame
But at least we keep our chins up, as we spit back at the rain