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Priceless. Above value.

A diminishing concept

In this corporatist new century

Wisdom is not yet genetic

Old people forget and young ones don’t learn

So mistakes are made again and again

If the young bloke in the supermarket

Has never heard of Epsom Salts

How can he help you find them?

Stupid leaders constrained by suits

Fall back on the myopia of their fathers

Who were stunned and confused and frightened

By their experiences of War.

They wanted routine and picket fences

Illusions of order in the aftermath of chaos.

They found rock’n’roll rebellion and long hair

Men on the moon and assertive women

Television warfare in their lounge rooms

Kids with strange ways and music

Loose girls that didn’t get pregnant

Living in sin with students

From foreign neighbourhoods.

Against the natural order

Nothing’s what it oughta be

“Things were better after the war,

we had it tough, mind you,

but you knew where you were

then

when no-one else was different

in the way they spoke or looked,

except the Chinese restaurant mob

who just got on with their cooking.”

Shattered illusions

Mould growing faster on the myth

As the rural life of legend

Crumbles in the dustbowl of waste,

Intolerance, rigidity and greed.

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