Cowboy Brand - Philip Brent

Cowboy Brand – Philip Brent

I speak my disquiet to the concrete and the glass
To every other person which, on the lane, I pass
Tell it to the trees, the birds, every blade of grass
Adults so rarely listen that I tell each lad and lass

Nothing comes from my dismal, despairing cries
Torrents of bombs and bullets fall from the skies
Because, too weak a reason to unanswered whys
As everyone with power with us propaganda plies

Seems that everybody this funereal fiction believes
Having no notion how every government deceives
Kills your sons and daughters, yet nothing achieves
That the rich may own the best, all to these thieves

As my anxiety swells, I yell at buildings and streets
The warning bell in my head rings, repeats, repeats
Army drum to send our troops, beats, beats, beats
The kettle of our boiling heats and heats and heats

When our feast has finished, nothing’s left behind
Our place in these proceedings is, in no way, kind
Cautions in all the guide books shall be underlined
Our ruins so ravaged that there will be little to find

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