Some say the past is dead
Sometimes it can’t be fled
and crossing yourself or crossing rivers
doesn’t make a dime’s worth of difference:
It’s just submitting with a minimum of shame:
Childe Roland to the South Tower came.
“Just roll that back a bit;
some Murdering Sack of Shit –
just look what they did and look what they made us –
comparing them to our old crusaders?
like our love and not their hate had
set the world in flame?!?”
Childe Roland to the South Tower came:
It was dark.
So here we go again:
the same as September 10:
our enemies’ fate to make us gleeful,
and as an aid to resource retrieval,
we say “they must be evil
to be in such pain.”
Childe Roland to the South Tower came
And I know that we were powerless,
as if anyone prepares –
and I don’t pretend that our deaths
meant that much less than theirs,
but in the brilliance of the hour lets
their soldiers hit the mark,
it was dark, dark, dark;
and it’s dark, dark, dark,
getting dark, dark, dark,
getting so dark …
Some say the path ahead
is so black you’re full of It
to toss in your hat instead of the towel.
Get ahead by fair means or foul,
but always with this disavowal
that “buddy they’re the same:”
Well,
CHILDE ROLAND TO THE SOUTH TOWER CAME
CHILDE ROLAND TO THE SOUTH TOWER CAME
CHILDE ROLAND TO THE SOUTH TOWER CAME.