The lost children,
In the coffee bars.
Irony smiles vicious,
Ostentatia fulfilled.

Little boys and little girls,
Wake up middle aged,
With nicotine stained fingers,
And threadbare band t-shirts.

Beautiful futures behind us,
There will never be enough;
Booze,drugs,or music.
But we may still hope,
To one day dream,
Sweet dreams again.