No Blade of Grass
The song by Roger Whittaker
No blade of grass grows,
And birds sing no more.
No joy or laughter where waves wash ashore.
Gone are the answers,
Lost or we will have won.
Gone is the hope that Life will go on.
No fragrant springtime,
And no autumn gold.
Summer and winter,
The heart now grows cold.
Dreams that we lived for all have to go.
Gone with the door,
That we will never know.
When we were younger,
The earth was green.
When we were children.
The oceans were clean.
Flowers were blooming.
Trees straight and tall.
The sky was blue,
When we were small.
We've circled Mars, and we've walked on the Moon.
We've reached the stars,
Oh, one day very soon.
No blade of grass here,
And no blue above.
No you and me.
It is the end of life.