| Midsummer 2045 they lay upon
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| The beaches burning
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| Insects on a ball of rock
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| Upon it’s axis slowly turning
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| Steel and concrete melanomas
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| Punctuate the hot sunrise
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| Spines now chilled by global warming
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| Microwave their last goodbyes.
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| For sixty years or more they say
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| Mankind had known there’d come a day
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| When there would be a price to pay.
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| Square Eyes watched
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| The fools game show
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| The first to go and last to know
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| Sat eating junkfood on death row
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| (Feeding the fall of the human empire)
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| No prophet cast the money lenders
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| From their polystyrene temples
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| Noone heard the penny drop
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| All interest shown was incidental.
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| Pity the chairman of the board
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| For all these years he’s piled his hoard
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| But penniless he’ll meet the lord
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| As all the world prepares to die
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| He stands before the needles eye
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| Whilst countless millions pass him by
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| (Fleeing the fall of the human empire)
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| Recalling all those wasted hours
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| Of motions passed and minutes taken
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| Maybe now he feels remorse
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| For all the souls he has forsaken.
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| Silhouettes of living corpses
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| Remnants of a transcient race
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| March toward the red horizon
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| Evanesce without a trace.
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| The proud rub shoulders with the meek
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| On debris littered city streets
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| They fight like dogs for scraps to eat
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| The welfare state’s in dissaray
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| All social order slips away
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| The Primrose Path lead to decay
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| (The Curtain falls on the human empire)
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| Codes of conduct redefine
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| As justice turns to legal crime
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| These monsters masked by human features
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| Are by far the blindest creatures. |