Helen Dunmore - Glad of These Times lyrics

Driving along the motorway swerving the packed lanes I am glad of these times. Because I did not die in childbirth because my children will survive me I am glad of these times. I am not hungry, I do not curtsey, I lock my door with my own key and I am glad of these times, glad of central heating and cable TV glad of email and keyhole surgery glad of power showers and washing machines, glad of polio inoculations glad of three weeks' paid holiday glad of smart cards and cash-back, glad of twenty types of yoghurt glad of cheap flights to Prague glad that I work. I do not breathe pure air or walk green lanes, see darkness, hear silence, make music, tell stories, tend the dead in their dying tend the new-born in their birthing, tend the fire in its breathing, but I am glad of my times, these times, the age we feel in our bones, our rage of tyre music, speed annulling the peasant graves of all my ancestors, glad of my hands on the wheel and the cloud of grit as it rises where JCBs move motherly widening the packed motorway