Colin F. Jones
~ 1 ~
Most folk have been to nowhere
And to nowhere they’ve come back;
Found nothing while they were there
So now they nothing lack.
They work in stores and factories,
Are robbed blind of all their pay,
Just shopping for their groceries
While the do-gooders have the say.
They run the gauntlet to get to work,
Of police and thugs and signs,
Con men and their little perks,
Revenue collectors of all kinds.
But it’s just another story
When they choose to speak their minds.
~ 2 ~
Every soldier needs a uniform,
He needs a gun and boots,
He must weather every storm,
Have bullets for whom he shoots.
He is paid from people’s wages
Who work hard to make ends meet;
Who are not writ up in pages
For the services they repeat.
They pay for all the training
That sends their sons away
Who come back home complaining
When they have something to say.
But the workers who support them
Are scorned for their dismay.
~ 3 ~
It seems that some ex-soldiers
Think they are the only ones who care:
Protest against the Government,
And post their anger everywhere.
But when others do the same,
They are called traitors and/or cracks:
Demeaned for what they claim,
Though what they claim are facts.
Army food is grown by farmers,
Folk in factories make their tools,
They are not a bunch of charmers
Not so-called maggots, nor are they fools,
They are people with an input,
Taught at the same state schools.
~ 4 ~
They can come to my damn funeral
And protest all they like
Because they have no chance of waking me
So they might well take a hike.
It ain’t all about me suffering;
It’s all about those left behind
All wanting to make a statement
‘Cause they have an axe to grind.
Well I’ll just lie there laughing
At the hype and carry on
Because it won’t make any difference,
When all is said and done.
‘Cause when the farce is over
Only death will have won.
©Copyright August 28, 2005 by Colin F. Jones