It is the climate of the time
To be bold-faced and bluster all the time.
Say that your recordís misconstrued
That youíre really not like Scrooge,
For itís enough to feel their pain,
When the poor start to complain.
Then just to show you care,
Take away all welfare,
Say to those with conscience still
We must all fare as we will.
Two years should be more than fair,
For all to find jobs that just arenít there.
We all compete in these climactic times.
Itís the climate of our times,
One step from the new bread lines.
While the table of a lucky few,
Is heaped up to the sky.
While the rest of us make do,
With what falls from them on high.
And truth is twisted so complete,
Itís like the pretzels that we eat.
Even a hungry childís stomach cramps,
Can be proved, caused by food stamps,
And they say we must be cruel to be kind,
Iíd say it must be greed that makes them blind,
But I know itís only these climactic times.
Yes, itís all just the climate of the times,
We all will do penance for these crimes.
For in this rough tumbled, and ready age
We have many pundits, but not one sage.
Thereís no one that wants to write of shame,
For which we all will have to share the blame.
Even Dickens would have a dickens of a time,
Finding one ironic truth thatís still sublime.
In a world where every lie is layered on,
And all of us just seem to carry on,
Till truth brings its due in these climactic times.
It is the climate of these times,
Scoundrels spin, their doctored lines,
They say give up your freedoms to be free.
Cede all of your civil rights to industry.
And thatís the only way to be happy.
We must trust the market forces to rule,
And worship the Marketís Golden Bull.
But like Bill, mused on a roseís name,
Itís Social Darwinism all the same.
A failed old theory for these climactic times.