Blow that bridge
Block that tunnel
Take a little poll
Another lands in jail.
That old deception
God’s inception
For centuries tolling
Over humanity rolling
Dressed in ermine,
They still are vermin
In silk or pinstripe
With Rolex or Vuitton
They still feed on carrion
Borne in sedan,
Coach or ‘copter,
Their bridges
Their tunnels
Nothing more than funnels
The wealth of the weary
Those made homeless to drain
Those drowning
in rivers flooded by the slain.
Blow that bridge
Block that tunnel
Not before the brigands
Are stuffed in that hole.
* Remembering Paul Robeson in Showboat (Jerome Kern, 1939)
Source