60 Years of Telephony

Our rocket ships are crumbling
They stand at the end of the garden
Stranded in self-reproach
It was safer to stay at home

And I find I always say
That I'll wait until tomorrow
Pin my hopes up by the back door
'Til the day after tomorrow

Our paper planes fell in the stream
We always lived in the future
Built our hopes on telephones and cars
But somehow never went further

And I find I always say
That I'll wait until tomorrow
Pin my hopes up by the back door
'Til the day after tomorrow

My sheets are drying in the wind
They make the white flags of surrender
I have decided to stay home
And look for happiness in routines

And I find I always say
That I'll until tomorrow
Pin my hopes up by the back door
'Til the day after tomorrow