Cuba TM

I want to figure out
What the future is about
Are we going to stay the same
Or will we change our shape?

Because of acid-rain
Because of too high gain
Cast our skins
Covered by a thin membrane

To let the sound come in
To let the bowels spin
To let love come in

And we could use the sloughed skin as raincoats
As saturn bursts through the sky
Our arms would spin like windmills
Our bodies refuse to fly