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BABYLON
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I was 13 when I wrote this Political Folk song. One of my earliest attempts at recording, it’s certainly a flawed production. Nevertheless many will get a kick out of the ending.
BABYLON
Killed a man whose skin was red
All his brother’s blood’s been shed
Hung a man whose skin was black
Strike his brothers ‘cross the back
End a war to start again
I don’t think you’ll ever win
For a moment things were fine
Babylon, you’re out of time
Strike your mother – slug your father
Sock your brother – smack your daughter
Swat your pets and slam your lover
Smash your gods and scram for cover
Hear ye this, ye deaf and dumb
Hark unto what is to come
’Less you turn and walk away
This will be your final day
The silence in the street
The people wonder why
Their god has come so late
And then they realize
That Babylon is dead
She’s lying in the street
No crown upon her head
No earth beneath her feet