The Forecast

Whoa oh, whoa oh
Whoa oh, whoa oh wah oh
Whoa oh, whoa oh
Whoa oh, whoa oh wah oh

And now for tomorrow's ten-day forecast:

Tomorrow you will wake up and feel slightly out of place
There will seem to be no reason that this should be the case
You'll go through all the motions, try to find what you're missing
At first you'll find a quick fix in nostalgic reminiscing
But soon that high will wear away, and leave you in the cold
You'll worry you're irrelevant, you'll worry that you're old
These worries are a product of corrupt society
That profits from your sadness and from your anxiety
And maybe, if you're lucky, you will find your great escape
I'm not quite sure the color and I'm not quite sure the shape
Maybe travel, maybe love, or maybe new career
Or maybe cutting out all of the bullshit that you fear

Whoa oh, whoa oh
Whoa oh, whoa oh wah oh
Whoa oh, whoa oh
Whoa oh, whoa oh wah oh

And now for tomorrow's twenty-year forecast

The neighborhoods you loved will have become unrecognizable
The hipsters will wear fashions that you'll find quite inadvisable
You'll meet some peers much younger and more talented than you
Your self-esteem will suffer, but there's not much you can do
The aesthetic of the previous generation (That you hated)
By the youth, to your dismay, will become celebrated
The bestselling books you loathed will have become unavailable
And all your favorites will be known as critically unassailable
Every scandal, every crime and every devastation
Will seem much worse than those in your memory's estimation
It's comfortable to think that things were better in your youth
Even though, that's very rarely ever been the truth

Whoa oh, whoa oh
Whoa oh, whoa oh wah oh
Whoa oh, whoa oh
Whoa oh, whoa oh wah oh

And now for what you've all been waiting for: The forecast for this century

You no longer feel so sad or sick or angry or exposed
There is no "you" that's left to feel; your brain has decomposed
Most things that you did, to be quite honest, are forgotten
Be the actions noble or be they misbegotten
But you changed the world a thousand tiny ways you'll never know!
By interacting rather than existing in tableau
The paradox of humanity is that everyone is essential
While at the same time, no one is, and though it seems tangential-
In a billion years, the sun will turn our planet into ashes
The universe will eventually cease expanding as time passes
That's tomorrow's forecast, sorry for getting so graphic
That's all for the weather, now, let's go to the traffic.