Radical Change?

Radical change? 

Pennies spilt on the ground.

 That wheel of revolution, it had to go round.

 and it kicked everybody to the ground.

 

Radical change? Doesn't that sound strange?

 Cut the roots and you kill the plant.

 Look at those revolutions, look at where they went.

 Lots of death and dying, leaving the world spent.

 Did the workers want change? No they just wanted to eat.

 When they couldn't eat, then they took to the street.

 Out went the Tsars, in came new Tsars.

 The names changed, but the oppression remained the same.

 When that wheel comes round it crushes all to the ground.

 

You want radical change, you might as well head for the stars.

 Even if you get your way, you'd be better off on mars.

 Because as long as human beings want to fight,

 the ends never make the violence right.

 Cut off their heads, new pigs take their place.

 Want to get rid of the old leaders? new ones take up the race.

 Level the pack, and a new monster emerges.

 And in the end, all the mothers can do is to sing their dirges.

 The names might change, but oppression is always strange.

 Fear begets fear, violence begets violence, 

fear has that smell of sulphur and hell.

 and radicals cut the plants down, till new ones won't grow.

 When that wheel comes round it crushes all to the ground.

 

So don't talk to me of radical change,

 It might sound romantic to you, 

but to me it just sounds violent and strange.

 I've heard it before, and those who talk it are whores.

 They'll set others in motion, and then run the other way.

 When the pack disappears, and your standing alone.

 You'll run from the fray, and oppression will win out the day.

 And you'll set in motion events, that will grow and grow,

 Until the grass is all trampled, and young lives are all mowed.

 When that wheel comes round, it crushes all to the ground.

 And when it passes, all that is heard is a plaintive sound.

Christopher H. Holte

Posted to facebook January 21 2012