By The Waters of Babylon

Full Moon rising tonight, I feel like a werewolf, lost in space...

Please! STOP! Listen, hear me out! Iíll be brief and to the point.

I remember Bob Dylan when he was young, singing beneath the starlight. I remember the Beatles, when they were young, I even remember the Rolling Stones. I remember when we all listened to the same songs, watched the same TV shows, dreamed the same dreams.

I remember running through the grass and trees on a summer night, laughing, playing, cousins all around. I remember green apples, I remember Grandmaís warnings, late night stories, crickets croaking. I remember picnic summers, softball outings, Friday night drive-ins.

I remember Willie Mays, center field grace, mothersí faces, school kids knowing the future was all before us, men on the moon, the 60ís swoon.

I recall being alive, so much to strive for.

I remember Abraham Lincoln. Honor, honesty, destiny. Hard work, loyalty, failure, success, blood, guts, civil war. I remember his dilemma, his courage, but mostly I remember his long, lanky humor on backwoods lawyer trips, old Abe could make a day go by, and never miss a lick. He was ugly and homely and humble, and I miss old Abe.

Where did our present generation of politician's come from? Where are we going?

For Godís sake, where did it all go, where did we go wrong? Iím going crazy here in the dark moonlight, screaming my brains out beneath the stars of fate. What in the hell is going on around here, anyway? When did we let the financial planners take over America, the stock selling shills on TV bombard our brains? When did money become the only savior, greed the only rule?

When did we decide to hate each other? Competition, hell, we got killing, you kill me or Iíll kill you, itís not the law of the jungle, itís worse than that, we got high tech tigers that kill for fun, or fear, or lust.

Are we going to just rot away as if nothing matters?

I want to build something; something that lasts, something we all build, and grow , and sweat, and paint, and mend, and care for, and make, and stake our blood in the soil of America for future generations.

We got people dying all over the world, we got people hopeless, poor, powerless, children lost and hungry. Poisoned air and water, ruined lives.

Excuse me, but we got souls exploding in thin air; blood is flowing, and nobody gives a damn.

I want Abe Lincoln back. I want our future back. If we donít have any money left after the crash, at least give us a future, a mission, a care, a matter , a soul to live for and die for. Give us back our heart and our country and our values and our spirit.

I remember how it was, the taste of life on our tongues. I want it back.

How does it feel, America, how does it feel?