A forgotten world, so gritty and grim
yet full of the ethics which made us proud.
Thick powders of dust in which you could swim
packed full of the hope which time's not allowed.
I wish to go back to this greyer grass
which I've heard so many stories about
but I'm seeing parallels with out past
and I find the vibes are in their second bout.
Bridged between defamation and delight,
we're in the slog away from recession;
determined to put all our mistakes right
we're in a world of euphoric progression.
And so a bit of squalor makes me smile
knowing the future scenes it could compile.