Our Poor Mother

Our Poor Mother

We are a virus, and we are unique.
Because of our self-destructive streak.
Not intent on just killing our host,
We end up hurting ourselves the most.
With war and famine, blood and pain,
When one is over, it all happens again.
We all have the power, power to change,
Let's start by farming a shooting range.
Let's start by taking the homeless, the poor,
The orphans and races ravaged by war.
Let's give them our love and understanding,
Using the profits from corporate branding.
Let's give them a roof, safety and food,
Let it only be oil that's the only thing crude.
Let's give them health, dignity, poise,
Let us rise up from the media's noise.
Let's take all the guns and melt them back down.
And use them to make some beautiful sounds.
They call them their “Instruments of War”,
Get rid of them though, and they'll hurt us no more.
Let's break them all up and use all the parts,
To make real instruments that are played from the heart.
Imagine a world with no violence, just love.
And the music we'd play to the heaven's above.
The world as a band, performing its song.
Doesn't this sound so right? Where the hell'd we go wrong?
Why does our race insist on bloodshed?
Why is it everyone's ending up dead?
Why do the people stand by and watch?
How can the people stand by and watch!?
It's time for us now to start doing good deeds,
Not bothering about race, colour or creed.
Let's bother about poverty, let's bother about war,
Let's bother about getting our race back on its horse.
But that's only one step, there's lots more to go,
Cos after ourselves, we need to clean up our home.
Mother nature has suffered, enough is enough,
We've fucked up her house and stolen her stuff.
And if we don't change, she'll come up with a cure,
And the human race will be racing no more.
Let's get out of wallowing in the filth of our greed,
Let's plant lots of love, and water the seeds.
Who knows, we might even learn what was wrong,
And slowly, but surely start getting along.
But before we unite and peace is achieved,
We really should be planting some trees.
And cleaning the land, the shores and the seas,
And everything else we've abused on our spree.
And maybe one day the kids will reflect,
And see how the people learned to respect.

By J. Barrett