Homeless In the Sun

Homeless in The Sun And still the concrete shells march Stomp across the wastelands With empty shuttered windows Reflecting landscapes torn apart Still the scab swells in its white washed walls Filled with stainless steel Empty rooms and unused washing machines Furnishings baking in slow dust Still the constructions insanity Marks out the holiday homes Of once a month in yearly They fill swimming pools The vacant skulls of economic where-with-alls Stand in useless tombstone rows Weeds between their false marble tiles Little green testaments to the concretes waste of time A brand new holiday home Have one, money, mortgage, affordable no option Just Oh so fashionable Like a brand new mobile phone And if you want they will build one Just for you Have another little plastic doll Buy another pile of inflatable accoutrements To rot away in creeping cockroach And too much sun Facile ingrates of the mindless plethora Kick back with comfort On the sun chairs of the homeless Scrape away the last bastions of wilderness Turn out the creatures to die In the middle of brand new planted roads Holiday homes A place in the sun Waiting empty for months on end Plants withered from thirst In scrub land gardens All waiting for a two week vacation The rest of the year standing empty While people sleep on the streets