The Wheel of History

The summer heat did bake the land, a fever on the breeze And two old men prepared to stand beneath the Georgia trees Down in Atlanta, on a stage of light To argue who was wrong and who was right One's voice was gravel, thin and low, the other's bold with pride A nation watched the bitter show, with nowhere left to hide Oh, the wheel of history turns and grinds, a slow and rusty sound And what you lose, another finds, on this contested ground

The names they change, the faces too, but the story's plain to see A tale as old as me and you, of power and decree Meanwhile the court in robes of black, upon the highest hill Sent a thorny question travelling back, and the trial's standing still They spoke of acts both private and official Is a president a man, or is he something else initial? The question of a crown and king, upon a free man's shore Just left the bells of justice ring a little less than before

Oh, the wheel of history turns and grinds, a slow and rusty sound And what you lose, another finds, on this contested ground The names they change, the faces too, but the story's plain to see A tale as old as me and you, of power and decree And the sun beats down, the mercury climbs, the folks just try to live Through all these strange and troubled times, and take what life will give They watch the screens and shake their heads, at all the noise and fuss Then go to work and make their beds, for in the end, there's us

Oh, the wheel of history turns and grinds, a slow and rusty sound And what you lose, another finds, on this contested ground The names they change, the faces too, but the story's plain to see A tale as old as me and you, of power and decree