Down

It passes down
From father to son
The blendin' o' the powders into one
Down, down, downy down down
One shows the other how it’s done
My father knew the chemist in town
Who never wrote the nature of the purchase down
Down, down, downy down down
One helps the other get it done
I’ll grind, grind, grind ye down
Charcoal and sulphur, too
Grind, grind, grind ye down
Make a bomb, bomb, bombity bomb
Make a bomb of you
(As SATIN continues watching where his figure has been, he rises,
moves downstage, now reliving a memory.)
Gonna get the sulphur
Gonna get the nitre
Gonna get the sulfer and the nitre
And the butter churn
Mix it up as carefully as Katie with her recipe
Katie in the kitchen with her carrots and her cabbages
A-cookin' up a recipe as simple as mine
If Katie knew
Katie would frown
Her butter churn’s
The bomb that brings 'em
Down, down, downy down down
One stick o' gelignite
One length of fuse
Father said a butter churn’s
The best thing to use
His father told him that
They leave no clues!
I’ll bring those soldiers down
Blow 'em to holy hell
I’ll grind those bastards down
With a bomb, bomb, butter churn bomb
And it all blends well
If it’s perfectly done
Father to son
Waitin' for the whistle o' the train that brings the enemy
(He falls to the floor, snaking down to the footlights on his belly.)
Come 'round
I’m waitin'
Come 'round
You men and guns
(He mimes the setting of the bomb plunger.)
Come 'round
You train
I’ll bring you down
For Ireland’s sons!
(He pushes the plunger, detonating it. A flash of light
A terrible silence
Then, rising slowly, he makes his way backward, staring at the picture he’s
created in the sky.)
The sky is full of stars
Stars like pieces of steel
Stars like pieces of soldiers
Tumbling through the sky
A star is twisting
A star is screaming
And burning
So bright
The sky is full of fire
The sky is full of stars
And steel
And arms
And wheels
And trains
And stars
And glass
AND MEN
AND GUNS
(A sudden horrible recognition.)
AND MY WOMAN
AND MY BOY
(Anguished, he drops back down on the bed where SATIN still sits.)
It passes down
That’s how it gets done
And if he’d lived
Would I have passed it
Down, down…
Downy down down…
The blendin' o' the powders
To my son