Yesterday when I was young
The coal fire set the scene.
The sun always seemed to shine,
And the world belonged to me.

The cuckoo sang its song in June,
But now it's hardly heard,
Above the noise of traffic,
And the supersonic boom.

The trees are being crucified
To make way for the roads,
And every hedgerow growing
May never reach its goal.

So let's remember yesterday,
And make men face the facts,
That if we destroy living things
The world will answer back.