proportional representation

we give each other reasons to rejoice
our hopes are not confined to ones or twos
what is reflected is a range of views

we want the many options complex choice
no single power is left to turn the screws
we give each other reasons to rejoice

what must be heard at all times is the voice
of those who have been victims of abuse
it's their demands that must provide the juice
we give each other reasons to rejoice

world on the edge

 let us remember that we cannot win
unless we're willing to forfeit the prize
honour will be forsaken in your eyes
since we are never the masters of spin
thread comes with speed out of the working gin
the final purpose we should not surmise
we wait now for the temperature to rise
and make us suffer with those not our kin
what we can see is horror and hot pain
the weight of air on every downbent head
and all the earth wanting to quail and die
we are not promised any future rain
our only options are torture and dread
and every hope has turned into a lie

what purpose?

a journey once begun may never cease
until the final end of moral life
the last best trip will lead right to release
a journey once begun may never cease

we constantly are fighting for some peace
we seek for calm by ever making strife
a journey once begun may never cease
until the final end of mortal life

humanity marches on

we aren't the ones to hold the gate in place
while herds pass through to better grazing land
that's not the purpose of the human race

the cattle will breathe right into your face
and still not take the fruit from out your hand
we aren't the ones to hold the gate in place

we can't allow the beasts to force the pace
they have to learn just who is in command
that's not the purpose of the human race

after the workday no time to embrace
unless the meeting is most subtly planned
we aren't the ones to hold the gate in place

none of us is quite sure just what's the case
nor if the small stream with a bridge is spanned
that's not the purpose of the human race

once we are started no one should give chase
although our full aim was for long time banned
we aren't the ones to hold the gate in place
that's not the purpose of the human race

the common task

 

a cycle up or down will never matter
just so we do the job and end the task
then for a while in evening sun to bask
and end the day in happy idle chatter
no need for us to coddle nor to flatter
the one who hides behind the solid mask
it's far far better if we broach the cask
all other things we may let crash and shatter
no working duties hold us in our place
but other obligations intervene
to keep our eyes upon the final line
our prey should be worth the effort of chase
our destination be a pleasant scene
and we should never have to sigh nor pine

evening thunder

a distant clashing as of saucepan lids
enough to tell us that a storm will come
the season seems to be upon the skids
a distant clashing as of saucepan lids

nobody's waiting for the final bids
we listen to the wires throb and hum
a distant clashing as of saucepan lids
enough to tell us that a storm will come

bring them on

if we delay we might as well deny
all right and justice to the normal sort
we'll settle all their cases out of court
leaving them saddened under the bright sky
they cannot walk they cannot ever fly
they are not absent but they suffer tortbre
their ships will founder ere they reach the port
all of this happens because of one lie
our promise that our actions would be just
honour would flow like water down a vine
and decency at last would be restored
now every promise crumbles into dust
we can do nothing except moan and whine
and truth lies bleeding where she has been gored