When they look back at us and they write down their history. What will they say about our generation?. We're the ones who knew everything and still we did nothing. Harvested everything planted nothing.. Well we live pretty well in the wake of the goldrush. Floating in comfort on waves of our apathy. Quietly gnawing away at Her body. Until we mortgage the future bury our children. Storehouses full with the fruits we've been given. We send off the scrag-ends to suckle the starving. But still we can't feed this strange hunger inside. Greedy restless and unsatisfied.. I was never much one for the great "Big Bang" theory. Going out in a blaze of suicidal glory. Not foolish and brave these leaders of ours. Just stupid and petty unworthy of power;. Just a little leak here and a small error there. Another square mile poisoned forever. A series of sad and pathetic little fizzles. And out go the lights never to return.. The affair it is over the passion is dead. She stares at us now with ice in Her eyes. But we turn away from these bitter reproaches. And take up distractions to forget what we're doing. I stand on these hills and I watch Her at night. A thousands square miles a million orange lights. Wounded and scarred She lies silent in pain. Raped and betrayed in the cold acid rain. And I wish and I wish. We could start over again. Yes I wish and I wish.