When I was just a little girl,
I asked my mother, "what will I be?
Will I be lucky, will I be rich?"
Here's what she said to me:

"Que sera, sera,
Whatever we make will be,
The future is ours to forge,
Que sera, sera.
We've altered your DNA,
We've twisted your chromosomes,
You'll be the prettiest,
You'll outlive us all. . .
You'll outlive us all."

When I was young and got a job,
I asked my boss, "what lies ahead?
Will we have money day after day?"
Here's what my boss said to me:

"Que sera, sera,
Whatever we make will be,
The future is ours to forge,
Que sera, sera.
These robots we've built for us,
These y machines indeed,
they'll do all our work for us,
and think for us all from now. . .
and think for us all from now."

When I was older, war [bad word] 
Day after day the bombs had fell,
The mushrooms rose day after day,
Ever so terribly.

Que sera, sera,
Whatever will be will be,
The future is ours to forge,
Que sera, sera.
I joined the force,
And rose through the ranks,
Became Captain of a squad,
Ever so merrily.

Now I have minions of my own,
They ask their Captain, "What will I be?
Will I survive, how will we live?"
I tell them tenderly:

Que sera, sera,
Whatever I say will be,
The future is mine to forge,
Do not question me.