Nestled beside the highway that leads to success
A grey brick enclave an armlength away
From the next monstrosity blocking the sun everday
We'll build our deck on our treeless patch of green
That we share with our neighbours, sight unseen.
Brand new detached, free from all history
Filled with boxstore keepsakes stripped of antiquity.
We'll consult with the experts on the colours we choose.
Who knows if the trend is a palette of taupe or blues.
Make sure there's a jacuzzi and a plasma TV
Line the stairway with IKEA artwork to see.
Weekday mornings up before the sun awakes
Head to work past the landscaped man made lake
Take the on ramp that leads to the collectors lane
Join the crowd of strangers who must be insane.
And slowly our identities will mesh with the rest
As we continue to live in our quaint little nest.
Amongst parents who have no time for their tykes
Who have chosen to live in Branthaven Heights.
There is an alternative to losing our minds
Let's head east down the road to the Maritimes.
Where the homes hold memories of times past and new
And the people have time to ask....How are You?
Let's get in the car and get the hell out of here
Before the next onslaught of pollution floats by us too near
Back to a place where the living is a much better fit
Where the people's sincerity isn't bullshit.
Give me the storied old veranda anyday. I want to hear its tales. I want mine to seep into its floorboards as well, to blend with the others.