(It’s my hope that you forgive the choppy “sound” of it. It’s one of those messages I’ve been working on for a while, with the melody completed. But tonight is when all of the words finally found their way home as well. I may post the finished song in a future diary entry. In the meantime, thanks to You so very much for stopping by.)
Ballad of the Pitchfork Brigade
Where will we march to on that first blessed day,
When freedoms won
for everyone,
And we all cheer “hooray!”?
Will we be headed on the path to the sun?
Or remain still enlisted in some pitchfork brigade?
Pitchfork brigade,
The part of the parade,
Where new rules are standing for the changes we made.
Where I’m still free to do
things that don’t apply to you.
Take for example a sister and brother,
Who wish to be married, though share the same mother.
Will you be the new god to brandish the whips?
To shut them both up with a whack ‘cross their lips?
Pitchfork brigade,
When the new plans are laid,
A sad repetition of the muck-ups we made.
Where I remain free to do
things that won’t apply to you.
Consider another example -if you could,
Of who will make
new laws to break,
And decide bad or good.
Will we still keep on begging for priests to “reach” our kids?
Or still look down our noses at the bums on the skids?
It’s not my intention to dampen your spirit.
In this circle we
spin in endlessly,
Is a warning-we should hear it.
Although we must stand, before all our lives fade,
What a waste of time-if still stuck in line
Of some pitchfork brigade.
Ohhh…
Pitchfork brigade,
The part of the parade,
Where new rules are standing for the changes we made.
Pitchfork brigade,
When the new plans are laid,
A sad repetition of the muck-ups we made.
words by Ramsy
original photo by SergeVo
Ramsy's Joint 