Gold-plated civilizations

Understanding, so demanding

Cause for celebration

Wrought-iron dreams turn to rust

Flung in the brightest constellation

And it’s so soon

A mile over the moon

When another one will bite the dust

-

The whisper of alien stations

Cymbals clashing, fangs are gnashing

Destruction breeds creation

When betrayal breaks human trust

Of the dying population

You can hear the tune

Of that final afternoon:

Envy, greed, anger, lust