Tomorrow
You're lookin' good but incomplete
like a prayer that has no aim
Wipe the ashes off your feet
Tomorrow holds better things
Open up the door and let the colors in
A thousand strangers call your name
from distant hallways and avenues
Tomorrow holds better things
And if you get the East 7th Street blues
find a phone booth and call out my name
The past ain't such a shame to lose
Tomorrow holds better things
Sell off your clothes or just give them away
Leave a dozen girls dressed just like you
Wash off what remains of today
Tomorrow waits to take care of you
Tomorrow waits to take care of you