| Look up little brother
|
| Can you see the clover
|
| No not over there
|
| A little bit left and over there
|
| Now look and see the lilac tree
|
| The lily pond, the skylark’s song
|
| The open air but no one cares
|
| If branches live and die out there
|
| Remember when you were nine
|
| And I was ten
|
| We would run into the wood
|
| No we never will again
|
| And Lady, what’s tomorrow
|
| What’s tomorrow anyway
|
| If it’s not the same as now
|
| It’s the same as yesterday
|
| Yes Lady, what’s tomorrow
|
| Will it be the same as now
|
| Will the farmer push the pen
|
| Will the writer pull the plough
|
| Look up little brother
|
| Can you see the clover
|
| Oh sorry but it’s over
|
| Now there’s concrete and no clover
|
| Remember when you were nine
|
| And I was ten
|
| We would run into the wood
|
| No we never will, we never will again
|
| And Lady, what’s tomorrow
|
| What’s tomorrow anyway
|
| If it’s not the same as now
|
| It’s the same as yesterday
|
| Yes Lady, what’s tomorrow
|
| Will it be the same as now
|
| Will the farmer push the pen
|
| Will the writer pull the plough
|
| Oh Lady, what’s tomorrow |