"Thirty More Years" lyrics
A little girl is standing at your door on Halloween
The face of expectation
And of trust in everything
A little boy has thrown some heavy stones into a pond
Dusting off his hands
He's feeling proud of what he's done
The geocentric days are gone and Earth is still a sphere
Objects in the mirror may be just as they appear
We spin around the sun and call each trip we make a year
Thirty more years of this and, people, I am out of here
Out of here (here)
(Here)
The trees turn into buildings
And the weeks turn into months
It's one thing or another
Or it's everything at once
There's two sides to each story, yes
And sometimes many more
And four bananas make a bunch
And two times ten's a score
The geocentric days are gone and Earth is still a sphere
Objects in the mirror may be just as they appear
We spin around the sun and call each trip we make a year
Thirty more years of this and, people, I am out of here
Out of here (here)
(Here)
If we weren't in so much trouble
I would say that things were fine
And smile as I went walking
And just wave on down the line
If there weren't so many problems
I would say that it's okay
And smile as I went walking
And just wave on down the way
Mothers hate war more in general than Joint Chiefs of Staff
Battleground statistics don't add up in schoolhouse math
The male of this here species lives for eighty years or so
Starts to see the mess he's made
And then it's time to go
The geocentric days are gone and Earth is still a sphere
Objects in the mirror may be just as they appear
We spin around the sun and call each trip we make a year
Thirty more years of this and, people, I am out of here
Out of here (here)
(Here)
It's often said that life is strange, but, hey, compared to what?
I asked this question years ago, it's still worth asking, but
It all seems stranger now, I think, but that could be just me
And I've no all-time gauge of strange for objectivity
The geocentric days are gone and Earth is still a sphere
Objects in the mirror may be just as they appear
We spin around the sun and call each trip we make a year
Thirty more years of this and, people, I am out of here
Out of here (here)
Out of here (here)
Out of here (here)
Out of here (here)
The face of expectation
And of trust in everything
A little boy has thrown some heavy stones into a pond
Dusting off his hands
He's feeling proud of what he's done
The geocentric days are gone and Earth is still a sphere
Objects in the mirror may be just as they appear
We spin around the sun and call each trip we make a year
Thirty more years of this and, people, I am out of here
Out of here (here)
(Here)
The trees turn into buildings
And the weeks turn into months
It's one thing or another
Or it's everything at once
There's two sides to each story, yes
And sometimes many more
And four bananas make a bunch
And two times ten's a score
The geocentric days are gone and Earth is still a sphere
Objects in the mirror may be just as they appear
We spin around the sun and call each trip we make a year
Thirty more years of this and, people, I am out of here
Out of here (here)
(Here)
If we weren't in so much trouble
I would say that things were fine
And smile as I went walking
And just wave on down the line
If there weren't so many problems
I would say that it's okay
And smile as I went walking
And just wave on down the way
Mothers hate war more in general than Joint Chiefs of Staff
Battleground statistics don't add up in schoolhouse math
The male of this here species lives for eighty years or so
Starts to see the mess he's made
And then it's time to go
The geocentric days are gone and Earth is still a sphere
Objects in the mirror may be just as they appear
We spin around the sun and call each trip we make a year
Thirty more years of this and, people, I am out of here
Out of here (here)
(Here)
It's often said that life is strange, but, hey, compared to what?
I asked this question years ago, it's still worth asking, but
It all seems stranger now, I think, but that could be just me
And I've no all-time gauge of strange for objectivity
The geocentric days are gone and Earth is still a sphere
Objects in the mirror may be just as they appear
We spin around the sun and call each trip we make a year
Thirty more years of this and, people, I am out of here
Out of here (here)
Out of here (here)
Out of here (here)
Out of here (here)
Writer(s): Steve Forbert
