People will stop and ponder
Listen with undue wonder
Illusions torn asunder
When the oil runs dry
Do we dare stop the fighting
Or kill them fast as lightning
Can we stop the dream so frightening
When the oil runs dry
There will be no motor cars
No unmanned space trips to mars
No new jails with new iron bars
When the oil runs dry
The electric lights won't shine
Motorboats can't ride the brine
What is yours will be made mine
When the oil runs dry
No one will have fun
When Judas gets his gun
It was only all in fun
When the oil runs dry
YOU ARE READING
I See Through
PoetryPoetic musings of Barry Tudor on life and introspection. A journey of a motorcycling American poet lost in the midst of his own country. Hellish past. Glorious present.
