| Book born vagrants fishing
|
| Endless, aimless in the
|
| Flooded palace where the
|
| King of Venice used to lie
|
| Lonely woman plants a
|
| Roof top garden from the
|
| Soil that’s blown in and the
|
| Seeds that washed up on the tides
|
| Two young orphans burning
|
| Ancient paintings and
|
| Victorian tables just to
|
| Keep from freezing in the night
|
| They were born here knowing
|
| Nothing other than the
|
| Tales of mad men swearing
|
| And before them used to lie
|
| All very peaceful now
|
| They have forgotten how
|
| Greed used to drive us to fight
|
| And to climb
|
| Wild people
|
| Nearly feral
|
| Living on what they can find
|
| Just the fish and the fisherman
|
| Mankind, and time
|
| Fearful vagrants fashion
|
| Tools to save them from the
|
| Greed-born slavers that come
|
| Swift on dark sails in the night
|
| Sometimes tyrants passing
|
| Hungry silence are there
|
| No more orphans in their
|
| Flooded world stripped bone dry
|
| Perched like monkeys in the
|
| Triple canopy of a
|
| Crumbling jungle watching
|
| Remnants of another world sail by
|
| All very quiet now
|
| They have forgotten how
|
| Music used to live here
|
| To dance in the minds
|
| Wild people
|
| Nearly feral
|
| Living on what they can find
|
| Just the fish and the fisherman
|
| Mankind, and time |