Tuesday’s Dead

If I make a mark in time,
I can’t say the mark is mine
I’m only the underline of the word
Yes, I’m like him; just like you,
I can’t tell you what to do
Like everybody else I’m searching through
What I’ve heard
Whoa, where do you go?
When you don’t want no one to know,
Who told tomorrow Tuesday’s dead?

Oh preacher won’t you paint my dream,
Won’t you show me where you’ve been
Show me what I haven’t seen
To ease my mind
Cause I will learn to understand,
if I have a helping hand
I wouldn’t make another demand
All my life
Whoa, where do you go?
When you don’t want no one to know …

Now, what’s my sex, what’s my name?
All in all it’s all the same,
Everybody plays a different game
That is all
Now, man may live, man may die
Searching for the question, “Why?”
But if he tries to rule the sky, he must fall
Whoa, where do you go?
When you don’t want no one to know …

Now every second on the nose,
The humdrum of the city grows
Reaching out beyond the throes
Of our time
But we must try to shake it down
Do our best to break the ground
Try to turn the world around
One more time
Yes, we must try to shake it down
do our best to break the ground
Try to turn the world around
One more time
Whoa, where do you go?
When you don’t want no one to know …