Wasn't there gonna be a rolling thunder Wasn't there gonna be a vicious rain Wasn't there gonna be women and children everywhere Fleeing them planes when they came Wasn't there gonna be a riot somewhere Wasn't there gonna be a fiery fight Wasn't I gonna be throwin bottles through the air Doing my part for what's right Well it's a hard road to ride When you sit right back and realize what you're not Wasn't there gonna be a battle raging Wasn't there gonna be a crack in the sides Wasn't there gonna be cities of old men breaking down Crying with no place to hide Wasn't there gonna be a common calling Wasn't there gonna be a light in the flood Wasn't I gonna be diggin up hidden treasure ‘stead of burying change in the mud In the middle of the middle of the ocean In the middle of the middle of the night Cast aside all my troublemaking notions And sailed for the sedentary life In the meadow where we struggled in the old days Only evidence of cigarettes and beer Don't look now, we'll sing about it always The gra** growing wild through the years