Have you all found your mothers in lovers?
Do you suck on her cigarettes?
Are you safe and warm
In your new, improved home?
Are you lost in your T.V. sets?
Are you sure in the mind of the fold?
Well sooner or later,
And the sooner the better,
You will find yourself out in the cold.
Do your lovers conform to the Playhouse form
While true lovers are wasting away?
Have you come to accept their magazine smiles.
Do they tell you that you’re ok?
Well the frail human truth can hardly compare
To the fantasy you’re being sold.
But sooner or later,
And the sooner the better,
You will find yourself out in the cold.
The mannequin makers of the me generation
Were busy long before you were born.
They’ve planned your desires.
They’ve planned on your weakness.
They’re planning now on your firstborn.
Get out while you can before its too late,
Before your mind is set in their mold.
Because sooner or later,
And the sooner the better,
You will find yourself out in the cold.
Your illusion of safety is a pacifier,
It’s time to put childish things away.
It’s like thinking your safe and settled and stayin’
In the eye of a hurricane.
With the winds of change the storm is a’blowin’
There never was and there is no stronghold.
And sooner or later,
And the sooner the better,
You will find yourself out in the cold
Your survival depends on your variation,
Therein lies the strength of a nation.
But the powers don’t care, they won’t be there,
They will send in their mindless machines.
Your spirit will be gone and your flesh will be weak,
You’ll be lost and crushed in your molds.
And sooner or later,
And the sooner the better,
You will find yourself out in the cold
Or if you survive, will you grow, growing old?
Don’t count on your youth and your beauty.
You must fulfill the promise each of you hold,
Don’t be a slave because it’s hard to be free.
Break open the shell that has you enclosed,
Break the chains that have you controlled.
I shudder to think of you wasted and old,
When you find yourself out in the cold.
Those who live out in the cold,
Are not idle when the wind isn’t blowing.
They don’t ignore the red sky in the morning,
They know the wind keeps on blowing.
A sculptor of infinite patience,
It carves away all but the truth.
It will be too late for the lambs,
When they slaughter the fold,
And you find yourself out in the cold.
Turn your face to the wind,
Turn your eyes to the morning,
Turn your back on those who stopped you from seeing.
Cast off your illusions, addictions and fictions,
Turn off the fantasy.
You’re a puppet of power,
You’re lost in a dreamland,
Your cradles will be your graves.
You’ll all be retarded and you’ll all be discarded,
When you’ve outlived your use as their slaves.
Even if you do all that you’re told,
You’ll still find yourself out in the cold.
Don’t be afraid to stand for yourself.
Don’t be afraid to be different.
Don’t be afraid to stand alone.
Don’t be afraid to go out in the cold.
You will find strength, you will find truth,
You will find hope, love and beauty.
You find faith, and you will find freedom,
For you will find your self out in the cold.
