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The horizon has been defeated
By the pirates of the new age
Alien casinos
Well maybe its just time to say
The things can go bad
And make you want to run away
But as we grow older
The troubles just seems to stay
Future complications
In the strings between the cans
But no prints can come from fingers
If machines become our hands
And then our feet become the wheels
And then the wheels become the cars
And then the rigs begin to drill
Until the drilling goes too far
Things can go bad
And make you want to run away
But as we grow older
The horizon begins to fade, fade, fade
Fade away
Thingamajigsaw puzzled
Anger don't you step too close
Because people are lonely
And only animals with fancy shoes
Hallelujah zig zag nothing
Misery it's on the loose
Because people are lonely
And only animals with too many tools
That can build all the junk that we sell
Oh sometimes man, make you want to yell that
Things can go bad
And make you want to run away
But as we grow older
The horizon begins to fade away
Fade away
Fade, fade, fade
Fade, fade, fade
By the pirates of the new age
Alien casinos
Well maybe its just time to say
The things can go bad
And make you want to run away
But as we grow older
The troubles just seems to stay
Future complications
In the strings between the cans
But no prints can come from fingers
If machines become our hands
And then our feet become the wheels
And then the wheels become the cars
And then the rigs begin to drill
Until the drilling goes too far
Things can go bad
And make you want to run away
But as we grow older
The horizon begins to fade, fade, fade
Fade away
Thingamajigsaw puzzled
Anger don't you step too close
Because people are lonely
And only animals with fancy shoes
Hallelujah zig zag nothing
Misery it's on the loose
Because people are lonely
And only animals with too many tools
That can build all the junk that we sell
Oh sometimes man, make you want to yell that
Things can go bad
And make you want to run away
But as we grow older
The horizon begins to fade away
Fade away
Fade, fade, fade
Fade, fade, fade
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I actually heard this from my dad, he's a huge fan. While we were in California, we saw all the boats that drill into the bottom of the ocean, and my dad made a remark stating that Jack wrote this song referring to the drilling. "But no prints can come from fingers/if machines become our hands/and then our feet become the wheels/and then the wheels become the cars/and then the rigs begin to drill/until the drilling goes too far"