Day Of The Moon

Soft showers falling on golden waves

That burn on a sea-scoured shore,

Fear torn bodies writhe and wangle

Wrath flows forth when frigid electric computer brings agony

Transcendental tumult that fires up these heatwaves

Extinction stalking, nations digging their own graves

Habits, Oh! habits -

Our man is a tool of habit

Grinding grit into nature’s gears

Knowing death’s the one and only truth

But he hides it away and prefers this last illusion

Until the unformed void is back on the Day of the Moon

He follows the light of the leading lout

To a land of delusion and doubt -

Whose great cities shine and sparkle

Ignoring glum nature’s drastic atomic ballistic sad decline

Umpteen billion lights glow on the shores of the rising sea

But that’s our right in our nations of the free

It’s eternally the same, we talk a different game

Nations saying ‘No more,’

We’ve talked of better roads a million times

But we’re still on this road

Can’t seem to leave this road

We’re still on this crazy frightening road

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