When man destroys the poetry with spite,
And for the pretty flowers becomes blind,
When he forgets about the pure delight,
Living his life through the computer's mind,
When his own body loses strength and mass
And has no crave for sexuality
When he forgets about the soft, green grass,
Lost in the virtual reality,
When everything is science, sharp and cold,
And man laughs at the old theology,
When his own being is so cheaply sold,
Relying only on technology,
In those sad days I hope I'll be away,
To eat and drink, and joke, and laugh, and play.