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