Father, father we don’t need to escalate,
As the singular flame emits from just beyond my screen.
Picket lines, picket signs, brothers and sisters
how will we unite under such strife?
Brutality, so punishing to you and me
when all anyone ever wants is to feel free.
Mother, mother, everybody thinks we’re wrong
even Marvin met his demise in a violent way.
Products in, garbage out,
money in, receipts to follow,
too much society is harmful if swallowed.
Maybe I’m just a city boy,
playing with that technology toy
but somethin’ ‘bout these old songs
makes me want to sing one.
If war is not the answer, and if occupying parks isn’t either,
then the Man got some thinkin’ to do,
the People have done their fair share.
All the while, Coltrane was a musician of few words
which makes me wanna ask “What’s happenin’?”
to the men in suits who form that crew
of superhero/villians under the Red, White and Blue.
The people in the camo signed up for a better life
yet the people with the little flag pins in DC
send them to fight battles that are as irrelevant
and cloudy as what ISIS really stands for.
Money is the key to unlock the riches
the squares keep for themselves, yet
with every march, chant and V mask
we creep along, creep along
as society hears our friendly song.