Visitor From The Past by Thelen Paulk
I had a dream the other night I didn't understand,
A figure walking through the mist, with flintlock in his hand.
His clothes were torn and dirty, as he stood there by my bed,
He took off his three-cornered hat, and speaking low he said:
We fought a revolution to secure our liberty,
We wrote the Constitution, as a shield from tyranny.
For future generations, this legacy we gave,
In this, the land of the free and home of the brave.
The freedom we secured for you, we hoped you'd always keep,
But tyrants labored endlessly while your parents were asleep.
Your freedom gone - your courage lost - you're no more than a slave,
In this, the land of the free and the home of the brave.
You buy permits to travel, and permits to own a gun,
Permits to start a business, or to build a place for one.
On land that you believe you own, you pay a yearly rent,
Although you have no voice in choosing how the money's spent.
Your children must attend a school that doesn't educate,
Your moral values can't be taught, according to the state.
You read about the current "news" in a very biased press,
You pay a tax you do not owe, to please the IRS.
Your money is no longer made of silver or of gold,
You trade your wealth for paper, so life can be controlled.
You pay for crimes that make our Nation turn from God to shame,
You've taken Satin's number, as you've traded in your name.
You've given government control to those who do you harm,
So they can padlock churches, and steal the family farm.
And keep our country deep in debt, put men of God in jail,
Harass your fellow countryman while corrupted courts prevail.
Your public servants don't uphold the solemn oath they're sworn,
Your daughters visit doctors so children won't be born.
Your leaders ship artillery and guns to foreign shores,
And send your sons to slaughter, fighting other people's wars.
Can you regain your Freedom for which we fought and died?
Or don't you have the courage, or the faith to stand with pride?
Are there no more values for which you'll fight to save?
Or do you wish your children live in fear and be a slave?
Sons of the Republic, arise and take a stand!
Defend the Constitution, the Supreme Law of the Land!
Preserve our Republic, and each God-given right!
And pray to God to keep the torch of freedom burning bright!
As I awoke he vanished, in the mist from whence he came,
His words were true, we are not free, and we have ourselves to blame.
For even now as tyrants trample each God-given right,
We only watch and tremble -- too afraid to stand and fight.
If he stood by your bedside in a dream while you're asleep,
And wonder what remains of your right he fought to keep.
What would be your answer if he called out from the grave?
Is this still the land of the free and home of the brave?
When America Goes Down
When the quick and grinning fire burns our epitaph on ice,
When the mad seas breach the ramparts,
And demand we pay the price;
Will our 'twained lives split asunder?
Will our love submerge and drown?
Will we cling tight through the thunder as America goes down?
When the fungal growth that's fastened on our cities lifts and flies,
When the pioneering spirit of our forebears falls and dies;
Will we still lie curled together in our broken marriage bed?
Will our love still be forever when america is dead?
While the parasite is eating through our sweet and happy dream,
While the nightmare is descending,
And the sleeper cannot scream;
While the night is washed with creeping
In all shades of black and brown,
Will you wash my wounds by weeping
While this land of ours goes down?
When the rising god of history starts to beat the drums of doom,
When this rich and diverse culture seals its democratic tomb;
Will we march along in sorrow with a dumb, funeral tread?
Will we make love tomorrow when america is dead?
As the blood climbs through the rainbow
May i hold your heart once more?
As the color of our skin becomes our uniform of war;
Will your warmth still slide into my grip
When chaos marries dread?
Will your womb receive my worship
When our sacred land is dead?
When america goes down, my love, when the time arrives to pay,
For the malice of the piper and producer of the play
And our image on the screen is of a sad and tragic clown,
What will there be between us when america goes down?
When america goes down . . .
When america goes down . . .
When america goes down . . .
When america goes down . . .
