I look out my window to a blinding bright light Enola passes, passes by Tomorrow, tomorrow, a look at tomorrow Hysterical men women and children Run in search of their families Tomorrow, tomorrow, a look at tomorrow I look out of my window to a blinding bright light Enola passes, passes by Tomorrow, tomorrow, a look at tomorrow Skin is shed like that of snakes But it's not the work of mother nature Tomorrow, tomorrow, a look at tomorrow