The outskirts of development
Tarred roads leading to elopment
of data,  electricity and English
to a native land,  veiled as a city

Oil boom has hidden the gloom
of a people with riches as their doom
For at night,  beneath a brightened moon
Gentlemen with weapons,  will terrorise soon

Welcome to EMOLGA,  by the Garden City
To the cultland, with an innocent greeting
They sold us peace,  comfort and perfection
The unrest,  they somehow forgot to mention

I would have walked away, and then
You'd be girl number ten
Just another inspiration to my golden pen
As forgotten as the rays of the sun at the day's end

I would have walked away, and you
Would be a fling I didn't pursue
the locks on my heart, you wouldn't undo
As trivial as the embers quenched by the forest rains

I would have walked away, and I
Would be as the birds that fly by
Uncaring and aloof to heart cries
Concerned about the deadlines that deaden tales of romance

I would have walked away, but now
I'm stuck with a broken pen
With affection burning without end
Scribbling tales about the day I didn't walk away.