8. Wasteland

On a wasteland you can hear them cry
Of wasted lives and a hunger yet to die
On pleasing plots some empires stand
A lifetime’s work for a little piece of land

Let all mortar brick and glory
Stand for the worth of the sweet earth
Build a monument to your story
Show forth and tell of how you did well
For a spell
Oh Lord, oh Lord, oh Lord

In that wasteland there's a common glow
Seal down the doors so that no-one else will know
Full happy lives justify the poor
As one horizon firmly keeps out several more

From the wasteland comes a silent scream
Of men and women who have realised a dream
Slumped in torment they await their fate
No more will joy or adventure penetrate