More than ever it seems true to say
Things won't always be this way
The ways we've thought to get this far
Are as outdated as we are

But I won't change it and neither will you
When what seemed the appropriate are now the wrong things to do
If in every act there's something good
I haven't done all the good things I could

And more than ever I know that's not true
Are there any good thing left to do?
Are there any right ways left to be?
That's not a question best left to me

'Cause I won't say anything I should decide
If intentions aren't possible to hide