Dad, he woke before the dawn
he dresses in the dark and he’s gone.
The car engine moans, he drives in alone
to deepen pits in endless rows.
His boss says “My friend, in life there’s nothing free.
and no one can afford to be,
so put your aching hands to oiling their machine.”
The dutiful lost in their going
cry buzzsaw swarms engulf the slow ones.
Each will decide if in this life
promised deliverance will someday suffice
when every moment’s stained in sacrifice
as we ask ourselves “What do I sell this time?”
(the dismal doorways of despair still will oblige).
Fences carve property scars,
each line designed to keep apart
those cutting loose the shortage noose
hung to adorn their gilded ruins.
But until we all break free no one is free
and each glimpse convinces me…
We are the currents raging towards release
The luscious veil of daybreak to the east
The sprout proclaiming space through crumbling streets
The gentle-handed new day tendency
So come my sisters, brothers, sing with me
Come my brothers, sisters, sing with me.