From the recording American Bleak House (The Complete Collection)
Written by: MARK BRINE
Industry's grown quiet ... in more recent times I find
factories 'n textile mills no longer pound 'n grind
the workhouses 'n warehouses ... the America of my youth
has disappeared, a mist with the once-believed-in truths
Yes, streets were once so active ... there were trucks 'n lifts, thick traffic
I pass in mid-day silence now awed by death laid-out, so graphic
What has happened to us ? Have we grown too big, too fast?
have we shipped it overseas ? Are we truly of the past?
A vacant building, gutted-out with echoes ringing still
of the voices we believed in who were forging A Nation's Will
The hammering irons,the forging steel, the sparks that lit my dreams
so rarely flash to kindle what now is lost it seems
The men you see them drunk now on the shanty town's main street
begging worn-out ghosts with too much time upon their feet, yes ...
What has happened to us? Have we given-in too fast?
Have we drowned in apathy? Are we truly of the past?
A vacant building, gutted-out with voices ringing still
of the voices that we trusted in who were writing A Nation's Will
©2008 Miss Rebecca Music (ASCAP)