I hear people talking which sounds more like squawking
We need to move past the past
There's nothing new, I'd care to cling to
I know today's youth would beg to differ with that
We once were emersed in, the art of conversing
Instead of our nose on the grindstone of the phone
Given the chance to go out and be kids
Not sitting at home texting alone
We'd be out at night chasing fireflies
Collecting their light in a tight Mason jar
Using our find as a night light
Dreaming of them as shooting stars
Or splashing through creeks up to our knees
Not a worry was had on what lay ahead
Not tethered to beeps, free to be free
Not a single device glued to our hands
I see what they've done to us, these modern conveniences
And how they have taken over our time
Seems the promises said were never met
And they still want to add more to the pile
I have to ask, what's wrong with the past
To me they were simpler times
That were happily spent with family and friends
Before we were trapped by the device