The Oracles's Con

Two men appeared out of nowhere 
A few yards apart 
In the narrow moonlit night 
Seeking tomorrows visions from the oracle  


An old wise man came across them
Asked where they were heading 
He said, he was neighbors with the oracle. 
Sit down you two, let me tell you about life 


Yesterday stands as a solid statue 
Gone with the winds of yesteryear 
Yesterday's time is set in dried out wax 
Yesterday is firm, so solid, so long built 


And so I would not worry 
About yesterday no more 


Yesterday is the dried out mortar 
Firmly set between the walls of time 
Yesterday is my old lottery numbers 
For last week Saturday, I checked it 


And so I would not worry 
About yesterday no more 


The oracle should have been made 
A historian in jobs description, to explain statues 
If only to tell you, what I told her in open sentence 
When my numbers were called out 


And so I would not worry 
About yesterday no more 


Sat in-front of the oracle, listening to her con 
She claims to know about tomorrow 
Yet I know, indeed I know, tomorrow's time 
Is yet to be molded and still in liquid forms 


And so I shall not worry 
About tomorrow no more 


I shall not give the oracle's words
That much sway, of the unknown 
She is fishing, like a con man, with nothing new 
She tells me, of what is solid from yesterday, already known 


And so I shall not worry 
About tomorrow no more 


Tomorrow's time is still in liquid form 
With my hands only, made to mold such wax 
I told you, the oracle is a con 
Do not give her words, that much sway 

And so I shall not worry 
About tomorrow no more