(no subject)

war over the horizon does not alter
the way we live that's fixed by other laws
we won't let our hired soldiers falter
as long as we proclaim just cause
day after day we publish open lies
insist that everything we say is true
over the dead bodies gather flies
the carrion's openly exposed to view
our worries are the only ones that matter
the  days to come are all that we desire
we like the ones who praise and flatter
our enemies must all go in the fire
our power is great our egoes all huge
and after us will come the great deluge

warming the bitter soul

the day progresses and we feel the cold
not so much in the flesh as in the bone
each of us takes the hillside on our own
the sun does not present us with its gold
instead we watch as all the players fold
each heart turns into an inert hard stone
the weight inside provokes a fervent groan
we have been measured bought and sold
now when we climb the mountain it is day
but no light comes to guide our weary feet
after the rain the path seems very slick
but we've been told this is the only way
the view from the high peak is a real treat
the vision comes only to those who are quick

shivering in the wind

we lay our hope in those with moral power
our leaders should be civil and not crude
each day begins with a cold dark nervous hour

although we won't in the dank corner cower
we know our hearts with fear have been imbued
we lay our hope in those with moral power

above us walks a wizard in his magic tower
his strength from ours has lately been renewed
each day begins with a cold dark nervous hour

so what the day will end with a cold shower
the things before will matter and we're clued
we lay our hope in those with moral power

would we give time or even grant some dower
to those who have not been measured or pursued
each day begins with a cold dark nervous hour

well in the end we want to see the flower
fresh in the morning bright and clear and dewed
we lay our hope in those with moral power
each day begins with a cold dark nervous hour

the unexpected clarity

which of the trees will cast the longest shade
we can't tell now when there's not enough light
we will not know through watches of the night
but when the stars and moon begin to fade
we'll learn the answer without any more aid
than what we're given by the sense of sight
we'll know and what we'll know will be the right
to place our knowledge within history's braid
there won't be need nor the desire to drain
the fount of simple wisdom to the last good drop
rather we'll have a chance to test the taste
of a strong beverage that still looks so plain
it can't be bought for money at the shop
but we must quaff or else it will go to waste

fresh construction

the forms in place the armature is ready
the wall will soon be poured or so we think
no longer will we stand close to the brink
the ground between us will be firm and steady
we know that what's been build already
still has the possibility of space or chink
the stone rolls down we hear it hit and clink
the future owner's mood is mostly heady
house by house we see the street take shape
the road's a skeleton the houses make it firm
and all the folk who live here call it home
you feel like a runner breasting the last tape
you look past the wall down the fresh berm
now you've a place there is no need to roam