The wind blows whispers down the street,
Having free reign with the town so bleak -
Like everything else its - all gone away.
The town hall clock gives forth its chime,
For no-one there to ask the time -
Like everything else theyve - all gone away.

The grocers shop hangs up its sign
The sign says closed its a sign of the times -
Like everything else theyve - all gone away.

But somewhere the party never ends
And greedy hands rub together again -
Shipping out the profits that theyve stolen

An eerie wail comes from the pit,
The ghosts of the men take the morning shift -
Just like clockwork - rusting away.

Come take a walk upon these hills
And see how monetarism kills -
Whole communities -
Even families -
Theres nothing left so - theyve all gone away.

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