T TThe plains of despair One year may be yellow oilseed Another sun burnt wheat Or the dark green tops of beetroot Featureless lands no hedge or tree To mark the miles The plains of despair.
T TThe plains of despair Stretch to the horizon And when you walk there In hope of happier view Of distant mountains
or perhaps the sea All you find continued are The plains of despair.
T TThe plains of despair, Although wilderness remote
have no peace for the soul For ever present planes
drone ominous overhead Their vapour trails graffiti in The skies of despair.
T TThe skies of despair
stretch over suburbia Where fields give way at last
to acres of grey concrete
on which stand
like ranks of soldiers condemned
to die in battle
legions of grey corporate cars The transports of despair.
T TThe transports of despair
feed the lines of buildings
factories of death
where soul and spirit perish
leaving merely empty shells
that shuffle forms in triplicate
though never knowing why Offices of despair.