Sing a song of sixpence.
Some lager and some beer.
Sing a song of emptiness.
Of heart and mind and cheer.
Sing a song of short cuts,
To pleasure and to pain.
Of instant wealth, of instant health.
O death to heart and brain.
Those golden girls and glorious boys,
Are now soon middle aged.
They lost their youth, they lost their wealth.
They lost their hope as well.
And now they see but dimly;
The ties that led them on.
They live in a world of shadows now.
Beneath a fading sun.