The sadness of the television world
Where actors have no character to share
Where all is flat and perfect but unreal
Where God’s in Hell, and yet it is concealed
The sadness of a toddler with a phone
Eyes near focussed like he is alone
Where he can see a Zoo in Montreal
Or hear hyenas as they make their calls
The sadness as we toss out ancient books
And never teach our children how to cook
The imaged food is perfect in young eyes
But when we live on that I think we die
The sadness when our neighbours have blind eyes
The sadness as our culture slowly dies
How my heart sings 