"The Postwar Dream"
Which I share, though like her I'm kind of cynical about ever seeing it.
And before I got into actually reading Marx or any of that I owe it to Pink Floyd; they put in in words in "The Gunner's Dream":
A place to stay"Oi! A real one ...?"
Enough to eat
Somewhere old heroes shuffle safely down the street
Where you can speak out loud
About your doubts and fears
And what's more no-one ever disappears
You never hear their standard issue
Kicking in your door.
You can relax
On both sides of the tracks
And maniacs
Don't blow holes
In bandsmen by remote control
And everyone has recourse to the law
And no-one
Kills the children anymore.
And no one kills
The children
Anymore.
Is it our dream that is insane?
Well, some of us feel guilty enough
("And so this is Christmas...and what have you done?"
"Was it you, was it me, did I watch too much TV--is that a hint of accusation in your eyes?")
About not working hard enough toward it.
But I'm still here.
That's something. A joyous Yuletide, wassail to all, and don't forget to Keep the "X" in Xmas!
1 Comments:
And a merry hannukwanzaamas to you too, Mark!
Nothing lights a fire like a dream deferred.
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