| C | G | |
| A | penny in your | pocket, |
| Am | Em | |
| A | suitcase in your | hand, |
| F | C | |
| They won't get you | very far, |
| Dm | G | |
| Now you're a | twenty-first century | man. |
| C | G | |
| Fly across the | city, |
| Am | Em | |
| Far above the | land, |
| F | C | |
| You can do most | anything, |
| Dm | G | |
| You're a | twenty-first century | man. |
| G | F | C | F | F | C | |
| Though you | ride on the | wheels of to | morrow, |
| G | F | C | F | |
| You still | wander the | fields of your | sorrow. |
| One day you're a hero, |
| The next day you're a clown, |
| There's nothing that is in between, |
| Now you're a twenty-first century man. |
| You should be so happy, |
| You should be so glad, |
| So why are you so lonely, |
| You're a twenty-first century man. |
| You stepped out of a dream believing everything was gone, |
| Return with what you've learned they'll kiss the ground you walk upon. |
| Things aren't how you thought they were, |
| Nothing have you planned, |
| So pick up your penny and your suitcase, |
| You're not a twenty-first century man. |
| Though you ride on the wheels of tomorrow, |
| You still wander the fields of your sorrow. |
| Twenty-first century man. |