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BELATED ANTI-WAR SONG FOR THE 4TH DAY OF JULY
How can we celebrate the 4th of July without acknowleging the children who have been maimed and killed in our two unjust wars with Vietnam and Iraq ? How can we celebrate our Independence in a world that is now interdependent ? How can we possibly escape the karma of the hundreds of thousands of children who have been innocent victims of our blind arrogance and stupidity ? We can't and we must make amends soon or we will eventually suffer the karmic fate of humiliation, disgrace and universal contempt : Allen L Roland
Posed on his wooden horse of hubris, and playing his guitar of death ~ George W Bush has become a modern day Don Quixote flailing away at the windmills of the evil world that he himself has created.
Meanwhile, the world clearly sees Bush for
what he really is and what we refuse to acknowledge ~ a moral coward masquerading as a world leader.
As such, the lyrics of a song by Tom Rapp in the early 70's seems appropriate for, in reality, it is an ode to hundreds of thousands of forgotten children who were sacrificed for our ongoing blind hubris and greed.
And all our hands are stained with their innocent blood .
Allen L Roland
THE FOURTH DAY OF JULY
And it came to pass on the first day of July
The last man home from Vietnam was going to arrive
The ship came in so silently, its bow a ghostly white
And when they looked upon the decks, there was not a man inside
Then the sea began to roll and from the ship a moaning
A line of broken children, all from the ship a-coming
The light of death was in their eyes
The broken children of Vietnam
On the first day of July
Like a war beyond control, to Washington at dawn
A line of ghostly children upon the White House lawn
Grown men did turn away, not to see it anymore
To see the burning child running to the White House door
No one found a place to hide
The burning children of Vietnam
On the second of July
All across America a line ten miles long
The dead children all coming home
From the land of Vietnam
To men who got too far away
From what was done in their name
Someday must all have to pay
Who never saw a child die
The dead children are coming home
Four days in July
On every door and window across this sad gray land
A mark that would never go away of a thousand thousand hands
A voice like voices in a dream
A voice like somebody else’s scream
Or not somebody else’s scream
A voice within a fire
The burning children of Vietnam
On the third day of July
Then they came upon the sea, it did open up before them
A line of children all with wounds, upon the ocean walking
Then the sky began to rain
And beat the land with tears of rage
And every year upon that day if a hundred years go by
It rains upon America
On the fourth day of July
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