BLOOD ON THE SNOW
Blood on the snow.
The war goes on.
It doesn't matter which war.
There are so many wars.
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Blood on the green grass.
The war goes on.
It doesn't matter which war.
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Blood on the dry leaves.
The war goes on.
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Blood on the snow.
ST. PATRICK'S DAY LAMENT
There is the promise of spring,
But winter has not yet released
Its cold hand from the land.
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The daffodils were fooled.
They lifted their yellow heads,
Thinking spring was here.
They were wrong.
Now snow shrouds them
As it shrouds the land.
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But it is winter's last cold grasp upon the land.
As St. Patrick drove the snakes
From the Emerald Isle,
So spring will soon drive winter
From the shrouded land
And release us from its
Last, cold, dying hand.
A COLD WIND
A cold wind blows across the land.
We shiver at its command.
Summer is just a memory.
There is ice so far as we can see.
It freezes us where we stand.
TIRED OF IT ALL
We stand dazed and confused
And feeling misused.
With all the lies we're fed
We can't believe a word that's said,
And we're tired of being abused.
THE AMERICAN WAY
America, land of immigrants,
Hates immigrants.
"Shut the door after me," we say.
After me, they're all
Criminals and lowlifes.
That was what those
Here before us
Said about us.
"No Irish Allowed," the signs used to say.
Paddys, Dagos, Wops, Kikes, Polacks, Hunkies,
They called us.
Now the children of the Paddys, Dagos,
Polacks and Hunkies
Don't want all those
Spicks and Chinks and other lowlifes
Pouring into the country.
I suppose it's just
The American Way of Life.
THE FOREVER WAR
The war has been going on forever.
We don't remember when it began.
We don't remember how it began.
We don't remember who began it.
We don't remember who we're fighting.
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We don't know why we're fighting.
We just know we have to keep fighting until the end.
We don't know when it will end.
We don't know how it will end.
We don't know if it will end.
**********
It's been going on forever.
TRAIL OF TEARS
We've been on this Trail of Tears
For many long years.
We began on this Trail of Tears
In ancient times
And foreign climes.
We lost many along the way.
We have forgotten their names.
Now we lead the way
On this Trail of Tears.
Tomorrow our children
Will lead the way,
And their children after them
Will lead the way
On this Trail of Tears.
And their children
Will have forgotten our names.
