Drilling, knocking, hammering noises
But do we really have any choices?
Creaking, shrieking, strange vibrations
This place is set for major transitions
Buildings appearing before our eyes
Making us feel like little flies
Everything, so big and loud
Can’t seem to shift that big grey cloud
Coughing, breathing, consuming this dust
Do we really know who to trust?
Spies, lies and telephone calls
What comes down with the rain, when it falls?
Strange noises that we cannot understand
Coming from across the Lammas land
Perhaps there are ghosts weeping for us
For they know why we are making this fuss
The land was so wild and green
A thing of beauty which had to be seen
In the summer there were fruits and berries
We used to feast beneath our stolen trees
But now there are no more edibles to pick
No more gorging until we feel sick
Only strange noises coming from across the river
Taunting us, haunting us until we shiver