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letra de innocence parts 1 & 2 - peter garrett

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innocence is my friend, she rarely lets me down
when the weights come on she’s got the woes of the world at bay
empire builders – crowding out the skyline
short sellers – talking up the end times
tech bankers – feeding on the deep river of our dna

now anybody else in the world might tell you
anybody else in the world might say
anybody else in the world might tell you, its too late

hey hey hеy

rich listers – cheat death in thе deep freeze
tongue twisters – smashing out the birds and bees
high flyers – pay big bucks to get a selfie from outer sp-ce
there’s always someone with a new toy
someone selling fake joy
tax dodgers smash the rough sleepers on their way

in case you’re wondering we need a new solution, a moral transformation, a peaceful resolution
and if you’re wondering if ecocide is normal, only if your appetite persuades your rational mind
and if you’re wondering this is not a movie, we’re not in the chorus line we’re just pretending we’re divine

now anybody else in theworld might tell you, its too late
but it’s never too late, not too late, never too late
from the wattle yellow hemisphere

learned in the law am i where wilful negligence is punished and foreknowledge of consequence an unambiguous signpost to guilt – no excuses

so i imagine a court of climate criminals crowded with pms, sheiks & presidents
woodside corporate titans, all well groomed, best jargon. delivering profits from frying the planet, and roasting us alive, puncturing the thin blue protection line

and here they come: the enablers, the acolytes, the political laggards, the allegiance shifting, grifting, still grinning journos in the cheer squad bringing up the rear. all guilty as charged of the cruelest hoax of now. whereupon the people, sorely relying on god’s grace – that’s the bank of nature actually – are crucified on the altar of financial theocracy

ha! they say we can have it all, but let’s face it the only constant is inequality and the sober fact that infinite growth l-st collides with sustainability and reality. here we go

looking out across the promenade at manly: the lycra chants of split level personalities screaming down from the stainless edifices above fairy bower on a once bushy slope can’t quite drown out the lullaby sounds of oars in the water slapping, as the manly boat crew, volunteers all … big surf, no fear

weary of heart and mind, not i. it’s the innocents fate, i’m willing to oblige. and repeat again and again, it’s never too late

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