Theres an old man talkin
To a young boy weepin
To an old man shaking his head
Theres a cool gentle breeze
In the night full of light
As the red glow wavers in the stead
Theres a black man crying
And a white man dyin
And a black mans head in the air
The shock of life
Feeds the fight
The fight thats in my head
Holding tight in the stillness of the night
In the stillness of my thoughts
Yet, I know Ive only started

Beating on a tin drum marching to a sound
What is it I think?
Am I beating on a tin drum marching to a cause
When I dont know what it is I believe

Lonely peeping chick
Calling to his mother
Runs amuck
In a sunken black ditch
And wilhams with the widow
While marthas in the meadow
And the lamb is a layin in sick
And the boy in back
Is talking some slack
To the king of auld lang syne
And my heart goes out
But I cannot spout what I do not know inside
Holding tight in the stillness of my mind
In the stillness of my thought
Yet, I know Ive only started