Go away tomorrow,
you who made us dream
and left us helpless in your garden of illusions.
Your vain heart full of autumn leaves
withered and flaking to dust.
You take from youth’s naivety
and plaster promises
down the tracks of young years,
you the bastard maker of rainbows
clothed in certainties strange disguises.
Have another drink on me
all you travellers on tomorrow’s road
I once dreamed into tomorrows promises,
now I laugh at the cruelty of it all
from this geriatric chair,
where tears have no place,
and my face cannot help you understand,
Empires of tomorrow’s promises
call out to distant hills of hope,
only the sun and moon see the joke!