There is a place we used to go down by the riverside,
The meadow grass was soft and cool, the trees there grew with pride.
We played there all the summer long in this haven from the crowds.
We'd rest awhile and there enjoy the passing of the clouds.
We would fight the evil knights and dragons we would slay,
'Til twilight came to tell us of the closing of the day.
Life was oh so simple then, no worries did we crave.
At night in bed we all would sleep the slumber of the brave.
Then one day a man arrived with a tripod and a scale.
He measured to the riverbank and back up to the hale.
And when his task was over he took his tools away,
We never thought that he'd come back…but then again he may.
Late in the summer we awoke and heard a thunderous roar,
Steel dragons came into the lane and through the meadow tore.
They started work by tearing the grass from off the land.
By the time that they had finished not one tree did they let stand.
Next there came the lorries with yards and yards of steel.
But no one ever asked us exactly how we feel.
The place where we all went, to spend our time in play,
Was totally destroyed in the space of just one day.
Giant concrete pipes were sunk into the river silt.
Steel skeletons erected and to the sky were built.
Piles and piles of tarmac were laid upon the ground.
Then someone deigned to tell us, "This was to be 'Newtown'".
The Dragons kept on eating the grass from off the land,
And still no one came to tell us exactly how we stand.
Then one day came the people; we knew just what they'd say,
"We're sorry we can't live here, there's nowhere nice to play."
The buildings are now rotting as the fabric falls away.
Steel skeletons lay rusting in the sadness of the day.
If only they had stopped to think, "What will our work become?"
There'd still be children playing, by the river, in the sun.