the wind blows whispers down the street having free reign with the town so bleak like everything else it s all gone away the town hall clock gives forth its chime for no one there to ask the time like everything else they ve all gone away the grocer s shop hangs up its sign the sign say s closed it s a sign of the times like everything else they ve all gone away but somewhere the party never ends and greedy hands rub together again shipping out the profits that they ve stolen an eerie wail comes from the pit the ghosts of the men take the morning shift just like clockwork rusting away come take a walk upon these hills and see how monetarism kills whole communities even families there s nothing left so they ve all gone away