Theres a cold south wind
Howling outside my window
And theres a voice of doom
Emanating through my living room door
About an ancient Middle-east town
Where children wear a permanent frown
Because grinning fly boys fly all day
Perpetrating a war
Theres working men out there
Living among the sand dunes
And hard working women
Workin' out there as well
While a burning Bush in flames
Calling out all the enemy names
For the clustered generals
Screamin'; Send them all to hell
When 'Mother Earth' got ripped apart
By the 'silver eagle'
Her life blood ebbed and flowed
Streamin' near and far
Reaping grimly all that be
Where the sandhills touch the sea
Then turned the day to nightime
And deepening the scar
The desert sands of time on fire
Forever burning
Where pristine waters flowed
Now stagnant pools of slime
Who will it be that bears the blame
For this cacophony of shame
The sons of Allah
Or the dollar and the dime?
Bruce Mac
March 1991
