The Storyteller's Dispatch

In a New York City courtroom, the gavel did fall On a man who once answered the nation's high call Thirty-four counts were read in the silence and stone For a story of secrets and payments unknown A president past now a felon by name Just another new chapter in an old, old game Oh, the headlines they flicker like ghosts on a screen

But it's the oldest of stories that I've ever seen Of power and money, of pride and of fall And the storyteller's singin' his way through it all Yes, the storyteller's singin' his way through it all Out on the prairie, the black clouds convene The sirens are wailin', a terrible scene Tornadoes are rippin' the rooftops away

And folks in the shelters can do nothin' but pray They say that the climate is changin' its tune Beneath this angry and overwarm June Oh, the headlines they flicker like ghosts on a screen But it's the oldest of stories that I've ever seen Of a fight against nature, of shelter and squall And the storyteller's singin' his way through it all

Yes, the storyteller's singin' his way through it all From the college green lawn to the high-tech frontier The voices of protest are ringin' out clear For a war far away fought with money and might They argue all day and they argue all night The names and the places, they shift and they bend But the story of youth has no start and no end

Oh, the headlines they flicker like ghosts on a screen But it's the oldest of stories that I've ever seen Of the passion of people who stand and stand tall And the storyteller's singin' his way through it all Yes, the storyteller's singin' his way through it all