This Morning's Verse

The lamps burn low on Capitol Hill Another midnight deal stands deathly still The Speaker draws a line down in the dust While the government clock begins to rust They're trading words on a continuing bill To keep the lights on, or bend it to their will And the folks outside just watch the weathervane Wonderin' if it's gonna start to rain. Oh, the ink is new but the page is old Another story to be bought and sold Of power gained and promises untold And the same old wind blows bitter, brave, and cold.

Out west they're building gods inside a box Teaching silicon to beat the clocks A ghost in the wire learns to dream and speak While the old world's foundations start to creak They talk of progress, a future bright and fast But the shadow of the worker's falling past Another job that a thinking tool can learn Another human lesson to unlearn. Oh, the ink is new but the page is old Another story to be bought and sold Of power gained and promises untold And the same old wind blows bitter, brave, and cold.

From the Fed's high tower, a whisper or a word Can shake the ground, a tremor softly heard At the kitchen table, counting every dime Living on the wrong side of their time The price of milk, the interest on a loan Seeds of worry in the marrow bone. Oh, the ink is new but the page is old Another story to be bought and sold Of power gained and promises untold And the same old wind blows bitter, brave, and cold.