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OUR GRANDCHILDREN



This planet has become an emblem of our shame,
The poison upon which our grandchildren will float,
While we, whom they will call their late,
Great Gods, go bobbing down the stream
Of history. Our bodies bloat
With all these lies which were our fate
When Fate and History gave us the time
To clean it up or suck the blame.

This planet once offered us more than enough.
But we were too stupid or scared to see
That gods like us, with feet of clay,
Are sacrificing to the Golden Calf
Our grandchildren, who will become the prey
Of these toys we worship on bended knee.
Our children’s children must pay for this laugh
We’ve had with all these toys and stuff.

We said it was for them we did
These tricks and games, with brain and arm.
But we have merely introduced them to
Our god who is that worm
Who will become their fate.
And when they’ve paid for our mistakes,
A final swarm of consequences
Will sound an alarm just loud enough
For those we’ve bled, bamboozled and murdered
To know it’s only ourselves we kid.

Words and Music by Galen Green c 1989


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