i. Sun
I remember. The enchanted English garden Days of summer air and honey-suckled The capricious of lavenders and cabbage-whites Made more than 3D, in the evening long-shadowed sun Nowhere better. But in England, although nothing really changes, the always does...
ii. The
The gold us The gold did The gold took more than Uranium Plutonium Pandemonium...
The thunder The sighing of the monster... Come to break the heavy Come to silence all the singing up the sky like paper White-welding dark steel of clouds And the release of the rain
The gold us The always did The gold took more lives than Plutonium. Pandemonium. The Gold!
Jet engines and And the summer Like finding a child
The roads are by many Like of peace And some not to go The f e a r looks like It did I see waiting, smiling On the in dawn's mist Or lost to the world in their boats be free or I'll die trying to be to BE.
iii. Lives
I see in them The at the borders Waiting to exist Brothers, sisters, sons and Denied our so-called golden Running demolished lives Into
The "haves" and the "have nothings" The and rejected We can't keep them in We can't letting them in?
The stops us The always did The gold more lives than Uranium Polonium. Pandemonium.
And as I stand wondering why A man on a smartphone Falls into my from the sky life Everything is .'know what I mean? Handy. And obscene.
iv. F E A R
F E A R is here the patio Under the hard-earned and paid-for home Cushions, candles and the lawn Mowing to the beat and the rumble of the coming
We all know about the that are raging All the millions who cannot see There's so much that binds us than divides us But our f e a r it While the stir it The colours of the we wave and will become blood red again
And the all say they hear voices God tells them to do The wars are all about always were And the money's up in religion And it's not showing off, the money's hiding.
is cooking inside me... It ready, but already... I'm becoming harder to live harder to live with You say I'm becoming to live with I'm becoming harder to live But you see into my head You can't see into my You see into my head
No, you see into my head.
And the are full of weapons That slide by in the Tanks all in yellow mud you on the motorway As you drive by the kids and the buckets and spades Days.
v. The Grandchildren of
in the air Brimstone in the Breathe of it The wind is the pictures The rain is the names The wind-chimes in my garden ring keys To all the doors.
We are the of apes, not angels But we are gifted with the eyes to see On days without f e a r, our heads are clear angels, we could be.