Domesticia

Who can say
Will the world turn cold
Holding an ice age

Will the withering hand
Be the one foretold
Will anyone be getting old
Before they throw it all away

And if we can't be told
Then are we bored and sold
Please say

I don't want to be the victim
Of my own mistake

Those who speak know the least
While the rest know best
Each day

Brings it all a little closer
While the figureheads make
Pointless display

Who can say
Will the world turn cold
Holding an ice age

Will the withering hand
Be the one foretold
Will anyone be getting old
Before they throw it all away