The Fall of Man

A pallid son cast shadows down the east side of the block
I drifted on a sanguine sea by the ticking of the clock
It was on the eighth of August by the boulevard I strolled
Oppression wrapped itself in flags on a grey uncertain road
The night fell black with diamonds the streets bare and austere
A man lay cold as wreckage he stirred as I grew near
His gaze was black and empty no petition or decree
And the wolves and legislators all saw that it was me
Fascists spanned the road ahead carrying a cross
Heavenly choirs sang hymns a song of Divine love
Statesmen lay there dreaming big pockets full of brass
Politicians circled on the right and ate the working class
The night grew cold and heavy the air was sharp with fear
War moved throughout the shadows the pledged hour was near
Diplomacy failed soundly strategic as it was
Condemning the misguided to a bloody cause
Above the silent underworld a marching mass began
Their heavy feet resounded and proclaimed the fall of man