Silent Spring

One thousand ladies in ribbon all adorned, underneath
The sun underneath the earth underneath an awful banner
And golden trumpets. they’re braying like clockwork mules
In a time of plague, in a time of war
The poisoned landscape defiled by the factory pipe, the
Sickened land the sickened sky. Cold eyes are spying from the
Top of the pyramid:
The government thug, the government snitch.
But I want something much more different
Not these factories of prisons
I wish that the earth was green again
I wish I had a gun in my hand
Someday I will come back in from the cold