The Turning of the Wheel

The autumn wind blows down the Mall Past monuments that have seen it all In Washington, the clocks tick low A fight 'bout how the money should go The doors might shutter, the gears might grind Leaving a whole lot of folks behind They draw their lines and they make their stand Another harvest fight in a promised land Oh, the wheel keeps turning, the story's the same Just different faces and a different name The banker, the builder, the king, and the clown

Spinning their tales in this American town From the morning paper to the evening sigh Another verse goes rolling by Down in Detroit, the line is still By the empty gates on a grassy hill For a fairer share of the wealth they've made A promise broken, a trust betrayed With picket signs held in their hands They're fighting for what a worker understands A good day's wage for a long day's toil Sons and daughters of the factory soil

Oh, the wheel keeps turning, the story's the same Just different faces and a different name The banker, the builder, the king, and the clown Spinning their tales in this American town From the morning paper to the evening sigh Another verse goes rolling by Meanwhile the wizards of wire and code Are planting seeds on a digital road They're teaching the shadows how to think and speak A future born, both powerful and weak A ghost in the shell, a mind in the cloud

Whispering answers to the searching crowd Some call it progress, some call it a threat A story whose ending ain't written yet And the old-time singer just tunes his guitar Under a silent, digital star He's heard of floods and he's heard of drought He's seen new ideas come in and go out And the question hangs in the cool night air Is it hope or is it a new despair? Oh, the wheel keeps turning, the story's the same Just different faces and a different name

The banker, the builder, the king, and the clown Spinning their tales in this American town From the morning paper to the evening sigh Another verse goes rolling by