Not Much Water In The River

Not much water in the river
not much left in the well
the sky is unforgiving
beating down like the fires of hell
I’ve never seen it like this
This dry withered land
the river hasn’t been so low
since records began
and we’re waiting for rain
That never come

I was at the demonstration
In nineteen sixty eight
When the mounted police charged
And there was no escape
the fear in the horse’s eye
I can still see it now
the clubs that fell like hammers
the screaming in the crowd
We were hoping for change
we were fighting

Like mice in the long grass
we scramble to get by
the market is a beast
that takes hold of our lives
we know everything and nothing
democracy has died
we serve our machines
and the real world passes by
We’re waiting for the wise
That never come

Young man under the bridge
collapsed on the quai
And like the greasy river
Life is slipping away
The sky is full of lights
Trains roll over the bridge
The Ferris wheel is turning
As he sinks into the filth
Waiting for an angel
That never come

Farmer under a tree
Alone in the burning field
Looking out to the eastern hills
Hoping for relief
Cows lie by the hedgerows
Birds flap on the burning sand
The farmer shades his eyes
With a weather beaten hand
and we’re waiting for rain
That never come