Is a song really a song, if the melody only exists in the writers mind?
This song I wrote so long ago, is still a song, even if no one has heard it sung for 30 years. It is forever etched upon my minds hard drive, but is my song a song to you? Who knows, and who cares?
Really don’t know why I am sharing it today, after all it is old and out of vogue.
The Black Plague,
Verse One;
Orphans of war knock on my door,
Begging “Sing a song for our cause”
Neglected lands of the universe,
Begging “Pollute us no more”
Up steps a man whose skin is black,
Asking me “Is my face that hard too look at?”
My vote the politician buys,
Then he tries to tell me I’m too high.
Chorus:
Yes, lately I’ve been confused,
As to why now we’ve misused?
This our world and it’s populace.
Did God really create us?
Or did we just fantasize him,
So we could continue in our sin?
And go on dreamin’ of a heaven somewhere,
Neglecting our beautiful world down here.
Verse Two:
The tax collector tells me “Pay up.”
Today or go to jail!
Fourteen different ministers,
Say,’walk this way or go to hell’
In my own simple way, I walk upon this earth,
Hoping for some better days,
Taking life for what it’s worth.
Chorus here
Yes, lately I’ve been confused,
As to why now we’ve misused?
This our world and it’s populace.
Did God really create us?
Or did we just fantasize him,
So we could continue in our sin?
And go on dreamin’ of a heaven somewhere,
Neglecting our beautiful world down here.
Verse Three
This is the saddest dream I’ve ever had,
It’s screaming but I can’t awake.
It’s all too real, kind of makes me sad,
Is it all an unfortunate mistake?
Can the wrongs be corrected?
Can a good man be elected?
Social wrongs, be rejected?
Before the whole earth is infected?
Chorus here
Yes, lately I’ve been confused,
As to why now we’ve misused?
This our world and it’s populace.
Did God really create us?
Or did we just fantasize him,
So we could continue in our sin?
And go on dreamin’ of a heaven somewhere,
Neglecting our beautiful world down here.
Verse Four
We lay claim to the moon and outer space,
A prize for our egotistical brains.
If we’re allowed to leave this place,
I wonder who would want the remains?
Dirty water, over burdened soil,
Beer cans thrown everywhere.
Buffalo’s gone, broken glass,
Everything to breathe but good air.
Chorus and out………..
Yes, lately I’ve been confused,
As to why now we’ve misused?
This our world and it’s populace.
Did God really create us?
Or did we just fantasize him,
So we could continue in our sin?
And go on dreamin’ of a heaven somewhere,
Neglecting our beautiful world down here.
© 1973,jmc