The secret of these hills was stone 
Of that stone made and crumbling roads 
That turned on sudden hidden villages 

Now over these small hills they have concrete 
That trails black wire, pylons, those pillars 
Bare like nude giant girls that have no secret 

Like whips of anger with lightning danger 
There runs the quick perspective of the future 

This dwarfs our emerald country by it's trek 
So tall with prophecy, dreaming of cities 
Where often clouds shall lean their swan white necks