"Fifty years after the fair
The picture I have is so clear,
Underneath the clouds in the air
Rose the Trylon and the Perisphere



And that for me was the finest of scenes,
That perfect world across the river in Queens.



Fifty years after the fair
I drink from a different cup,
But it does no good to compare
Cos nothing ever measures up.
I guess just for a second we thought
That all good things would rise to the top.



But how beautiful it was, tomorrow.
We'll never have a day of sorrow.
We got through the '30's but our belts were tight,
We conceived of a future with no hope in sight,
We've got decades ahead of us to get it right, I swear,
Fifty years after the fair.



Fifty years after the fair
I live in tomorrow town.
Even on a wing and a prayer
The future never came around.
It hurts to even think of those days,
The damage we do by the hopes that we raise.





But how beautiful it was, tomorrow.
We'll never have a day of sorrow.
We got through the '30's but our belts were tight,
We conceived of a future with no hope in sight,
We've got decades ahead of us to get it right, I swear,
Fifty years after the fair."



- Aimee Mann,
"Fifty Years After the Fair"