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