A Pretty Picture Box Called Nostalgia

What recollection I have in mind In the name of progress I put away in the garage In its very own box labeled nostalgia A long time ago To painful to revisit I choose rather to ignore everyday As my gravel worn wheels role on bye Into the omnibus skyline abyss Floating in free fall decline And I think to myself If this is the future If this is progress God help us all And Brace yourself for a heavy fall We were never going to head to the warning call