Hey kid, what’s got you down? 
Post-modern living slapped you with a frown
Ooh, I can’t really say that I blame you - so far

If your dreams are plagued with traitors
Disregard the bitches and the haters
Don’t let the spiteful’s opinion tell you who you are

Oh-oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh
You’re bound for glory
Oh-oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh
So go write your story
It is the hobby of very small minds
To make fun of any other kind
You’re bound for glory

Sure thing - the world is in trouble
We need an intervention on the double
People dying for God and for dinosaur bones - it’s insane 

 
We’ve been at this ten thousand years
Time to ditch the old ghosts and the fears
We can make a paradise out of our home, instead of a pain 

 
Oh-oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh
You’re bound for glory
Oh-oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh
So go write your story
It is the hobby of very small minds
To make fun of any other kind
You’re bound for glory

Worry worry worry - all we do it worry
Doesn’t help you much
Hurry hurry hurry - all we do is hurry
But we want to touch
Who invented this? I sure didn’t. 
My inheritance? You must be kiddin’. 
I don’t give a damn. 
Frankly, my dear - I don’t give a damn!

Oh-oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh
You’re bound for glory
Oh-oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh
So go write your story
It is the hobby of very small minds
To make fun of any other kind
So screw 'em -
You’re bound for glory... 
You're bound for glory!

© Kurt Riley, 2017.