APPLE VALLEY

 

I guess you could say I’m one of the lucky ones.

Raised on the fruits of country life.

Now I look around and can only hope we’ve begun

To see what we’re doing isn’t right.

 

We devour the land like there’s no tomorrow.

At the rate that we’re going there might just not be.

When there’s nothing left to beg, steal or borrow,

Like the lemmings all make their march to the sea.

 

                  Don’t let the names fool you,

                 ‘Cause they don’t mean a thing.

                 “Green Meadow and “Apple Valley” have

                  Such a pleasant ring.

                  There ain’t no apple trees to be found;

                  I wonder who we have to thank.

                  The only green growing around here now

                  Is all sitting in some bank.

 

My father and I used to climb up this mountaintop.

Every Sunday we’d hike up and look at the view.

One day, you wake up and realize that no one can stop

The dollar bill from controlling what some people do.

 

The places I used to play- they’re all houses now.

All the kids down there do is watch TV.

Guess they can’t miss what they never knew anyhow.

And the lemmings still make their march to the sea.

 

Now all the fields here grow manufacturing plants.

And they’ll tell ya that that’s just what this town needs.

“We need new growth for the future to stand half a chance”.

But there’s no place left anywhere for the seeds.

 

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