Measuring a summer's day I only find it slips away to gray The hours, they bring me pain. Tangerine, Tangerine Living reflections from a dream I was her love, she was my queen And now a thousand years between Thinking how it used to be Does she still remember times like these To think of us again? And I do. ? 99% of our elders consider our current generation to be so lucky as not to be forced to live in constant fear of a nuclear bomb like they did thirty and forty years ago. But don't they realize that we are upon the brink of something nearly worse? It seems as if the only cure for fear is to attempt to get my mind off of it, but how long is that going to last?