Five Years The Postmarks

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Pushing through the market square
So many mothers sighing
News had just come over
We had five years left to cry in

News guy wept and told us
Earth was really dying
Cried so much his face was wet
Then I knew he was not lying

I heard telephones
Opera house, favorite melodies
I saw boys toys
Electric irons and TV's

My brain hurt like a warehouse
It had no room to spare
I had to cram so many things
To store everything in there

And all the fat, skinny people
And all the tall, short people
And all the nobody people
And all the somebody people
I never thought I'd need so many people