I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear,
Those of mechanics, each one singing his from rust belt
Squeaky,- oh need some oil
The carpenter singing, his thumb is,- oh it hurts!
Sawed neat between his plank or beam,
The mason singing his as he makes ready for john, all gravel must out
That is a bloody work for sure!
The boatman singing what belongs to him in his boat, quarantine makes
Even a hardy Captain lurch like a deckhand, corona virus got him
Yes sirree! singing is more a caterwaul!
The shoemaker singing as he sits on his bench, Nike simply laid him off
And he wallows among his lasts and discarded rubber soles
There is a pandemic blowing across the land
The delicious singing of the mother, or of the young wife at work,
Or of the girl sewing or washing,
Each singing what belongs to him or her and to none else,
The day what belongs to the day—at night the party of young fellows, robust, friendly,
Singing with open mouths their strong melodious songs
Long stilled when the Mighty dollar sounded his trumpet:
Put a nickel and the jukebox will sing for any idiot
Who is hooded and his heart has a lynching song.
Blue collar worker and white collar workers alike
Have had change of heart
New you hear is no more the same: Corona virus got them all
A song is no song if heart has stopped beating for your brother
Come black, come yellow the white is black and black is white
When the dollar drew blood and what poured out is now a pandemic.
I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear,
Those of mechanics, sharecroppers busboys and janitors
Each one singing his from heart is lost In the howling
Winds of unrest.
benny
Bennythomas's Weblog 