Smell the sickly scent of hot, melted
road tar as the country highway is re-paved
See the new houses, as they’re raised,
one-by-one, where only farms used to be
And the Marlboro Man makes his exit
from center stage, coughing with a wry smile
Things, they’re a-changin’
Walk a little ways into the woods
and see the house where my mother used to live
Or what’s left of it, where ten kids
shared two rooms, with no indoor plumbing
And then walk through her new house,
with a cordless phone and online computer
Things, they’re a-changin’
Read about our forefathers,
who crossed the ocean in four months or more,
Riding in rat-infested wooden ships,
and now we’re sending men to Mars, and farther
We span the globe in a few hours,
to see other people with empty heads & hardened hearts
Things, they’re a-changin’
Fourteen years later, it’s worth noting: we still haven't sent anyone to Mars, nor even returned to the Moon.