Wasn't there gonna be a rolling thunder
Wasn't there gonna be a vicious rain
Wasn't there gonna be women and children everywhere
Fleeing them planes when they came
Wasn't there gonna be a riot somewhere
Wasn't there gonna be a fiery fight
Wasn't I gonna be throwin bottles through the air
Doing my part for what's right
Well it's a hard road to ride
When you sit right back and realize what you're not
Wasn't there gonna be a battle raging
Wasn't there gonna be a crack in the sides
Wasn't there gonna be cities of old men breaking down
Crying with no place to hide
Wasn't there gonna be a common calling
Wasn't there gonna be a light in the flood
Wasn't I gonna be diggin up hidden treasure
‘stead of burying change in the mud
In the middle of the middle of the ocean
In the middle of the middle of the night
Cast aside all my troublemaking notions
And sailed for the sedentary life
In the meadow where we struggled in the old days
Only evidence of cigarettes and beer
Don't look now, we'll sing about it always
The gra** growing wild through the years