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.


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