oliver cromwell, the curse of cromwell, tyburn
Ghost of Cromwell
Do not think that he will not return, Though his body be lost in old Tyburn Do not think that he is dead, Or believe in the tales of a severed head Do not believe that he would care, If he was cut down and quartered and was not there Do not be too eager to curse his name, When the past is rewritten for noble gain Do not deny that this land of yours, Bears the sinless blood of corrupted wars Do not speak of treason or the trespass of law, When the house that you serve may be guilty of more Do not try to judge with methods unjust, When the system you fought for you now cannot trust Beware of the hands that cradle the poor, Beware the mansion of legislature, Beware of the progress that's built on cutbacks, Spitting out contracts and choking on tax Beware of religion that serves to divide And the leaders of men unelected beside Beware of false prophets that line up to preach, In the pay of the rich and the tick and the leech When the fate of a nation becomes conjecture Will the people unite to select a Protector Or will the voice of the people be drowned in the sea Of what was once fairness and democracy Drowned by the students of world-domination, The ne'er-do-wells of a priviliged foundation? Will there be a call for a new resurrection When a self-imposed senate is bereft of direction? Do not believe that he will not return, On the hour of reckoning and utmost concern.
© Severn Dwyer. 2010