Page Hit

Five Years

Pushing through the market square
So many mothers sighing
News had just come over
We had five years left to cry in

News guy wept and told us
Earth was really dying
Cried so much his face was wet
Then I knew he was not lying

I heard telephones, opera house, favourite melodies
Saw boys and toys, electric irons, TVs
My brain hurt like a warehouse
It had no room to spare
I had to cram so many things to store
Everything in there