A Tudor
The future is
A tudor
A mentor
In disguise
To show us
Wiseguys
Who’s in charge
Of the show
Man thinks and
Knows that he seems
To be in control of
The sun, moon
And stars and
All sparks
That connect
Engines and hinges
Together it in the
Orange weather
On a damped day
That I see people
In disarray
Covered in ugly
Snugly sweaters
With duraflame
Logs they want
Smog stains off
Car hoods they
Want serf
On the road
To the future
But its no
Guarantee
Like highway
Three on the road
To be