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Verse 1
Future on the table
“The future, as everyone knows / Is where we're gonna be spending the rest of our life”
Right off the jump the narrator shrugs, like, obvious fact, but it lands as a dare: quit doom-scrolling and look ahead. He pictures the future as a person with “promise in her eyes… liberty” so freedom isn’t abstract, it’s a girl staring you down. Then the self-deprecation kicks in: he’s “running my mouth off… it’s not poetry.” Translation: I sound cocky but I'm scared too. That tension sets the tone for the whole track—big talk masking shaky knees.
Chorus
Sarina’s siren call
“Sarina Sarina / She’s the song of the future”
Sarina isn’t a love interest; she’s an embodiment of possibility. The name repeats like a mantra, drilling the idea that hope needs a hook you can sing. When he says “Gotta know gotta find a way to get to her,” he’s not chasing romance, he’s chasing a horizon line. Notice the urgency—double verbs, no commas. The sign she’s holding? That invisible banner that says keep moving, you’re almost there.
Post-Chorus
Solitude, shared
“All alone / But not alone”
This little refrain is the gut punch. The band strips words down to a koan: yeah, you feel isolated, but so does everyone else, which weirdly links us together. That paradox turns personal angst into communal fuel. It’s the heartbeat underneath the whole mission statement.
Verse 2
Heaven out of reach
“Picture – heaven is closed / All the classroom prophets gone to ground”
The second verse crashes the optimism party. Doors slam, mentors bail, the world feels godless. Yet a “schoolgirl” pipes up with the simplest theology: “Love is a verb and not a noun.” That single line yanks the narrator back on his feet. Love isn’t something you possess; it’s something you do. Cue the self-mocking repeat: “running my mouth off again.” He knows talk is cheap, but talking keeps the fire lit until action shows up.
Outro / Final Post-Chorus
Circle back to hope
“You’re not alone / Yeah, we’re not alone”
The last pass flips the line to “you’re” not alone, turning inward reflection into a direct pep-talk. It’s the narrator handing the mic to the listener: take the sign, keep walking. Sarina still hums in the background, proof that the future keeps singing even when the guitar solo fades.
