Too Much Information - with audio

audio link

War in other Americas
War in the Middle East
Somewhere down south
At our abstracted backdoor
Suffering people valued least
Its all foggy in my head
A vague string of pictures
Dirty little phrases
The TV newsman said
I can't understand it
Its so very hard to grasp
Oppression in Africa
We don't expect to last
Famine in Ethiopia
Conflict in the Congo 
Destitution in Somalia
To say the least, but go on

Slavery in Sudan
War in Iraq
Protests in Irae
-->

Bury the cornucopia
War in Afghanistan

Countdown the clock
In the Arabian sea.
Somewhere over there

Broken teapots in the UK

Plastic rifles in the UN
Primitive in my memory
Crazy dying madmen
Dictators in Asia
By the Mediterranean

Nuclear Korea

World consternation

Ballisitc Baltics and Russia

Over Pakistani pacification

Chessmen in China

Thoughts of India’s decimation

 

But Here in America
In favorite magazines
The advertisement reads
Have what you dream
Can you hear the screams
Of dissidents in the pillory
Don't know the pains
Of the man in agony
Let him call upon family
Not much we can do
Got a bad economy
Work very hard
Job is all my life
I got a nice car
A house, kids and wife
We ain't got much
Sounds the common cry
Burdened with stuff n such
But we get by

See the boy
The cardboard box
He wants money
Look away now,
And the woman
Outside the window
The sign reads her plan
But I'm entertaining,
Table set, dinner in the pan
Flat screen complaining
War on the planet
War in the heavens
See a fire, fan it
Dainties on the plate
They say it's cosmic UFOS
Perhaps a Communist plot
IRS Tax NRA's IRAs
Capitalist Imperialism
Militant radicalism
Religion's special-ism

Don't bother me, I don't know
He's Just one little person
She's just Living out a scheme
Too much information
Nightmare vs dream 
Toward a quiet cluttered space
Plucking out bad verse
In a dirty little place
Unaffected, by the universe
Quiet the hands that pray
Others steal away
Broken vessels of the day
Orphans and widows
White lab-coats and waste vehicles
The dead of night speaks
A black cry of landfills
While vigilant Mercy
Contemplates a fullness of weeks
And bids the heart be still
Comforting the gentle and meek
For love lives on, but fear kills.