At what point do you make a stand,
When someone has to raise their hand,
When everybody has demands….
But nobody seems to have a plan.
They yell, they cry, they scream and shout,
They break, they smash, they whine and pout,
They wail and let their anger out,
But if asked to build they quickly rout.
To lift the spade and turn the soil,
To pour the 'crete and pack the spoil,
The stretch of brain and muscle in toil,
To these essentials no one is loyal.
What is death and what is life,
But ceaseless war in ceaseless strife
Grief and anger and wrath turn rife
Blood soaked hand on blood soaked knife.
Will no one here see through the lies,
Will no ear bend to hear the cries,
Of the gasping future of a world that dies,
There is no hope if no one tries.