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)