States of Depression No. 1

Magnetic tape identity,
Programmed personality,
This is where we’re heading,
In the age of high technolog

Plastic man with plastic limbs,
Works out in a roof top gym,
What a waste of time it is,
Cholesterol will soon kill him.

The city makes us animals,
Crazed by all the chemicals,
Modern living’s a disease,
One that is terminal.

Red roofed boxes all the same,
Rejects from a Lego game,
Subdivisions crowd us in,
No one wants to take the blame.

Trapped within atomic fear,
World War Three is drawing near,
Very soon we’ll all be dead,
With no one left to shed mans tears.

© copyright A Jack 1985

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