CLEAN AIR

CLEAN AIR Only a few now recall the London smogs The early Fifties, I think it may have been When a man used to walk ahead of a bus As schoolkids, it was a strange time for us Almost every day greeted by a misty scene Our young minds were just whirring cogs White collars got smudged with sooty grime A prisoner in that secluded and private cage Was this our coal fires or industry’s disgrace Not to see your hand in front of your face Was decades ago really such a different age But lives still went on, even during that time Now, it’s more the exhaust from diesel trucks With traffic-clogged roads from dawn to dusk The dirty pall is nothing like cool country mist In cities, the public is likely to shake their fist To breathe and be well again, remove the husk It is all about making and spending our bucks