Toni Childs, David Rickettsthere's an old man talkinto a young boy weepinto an old man shaking his headthere's a cool gentle breezein the night full of lightas the red glow wavers in the steadthere's a black man cryingand a white man dyinand a black man's head in the airthe shock of lifefeeds the fightthe fight that's in my headholding tight in the stillness of the nightin the stillness of my thoughtsyet, I know I've only startedbeating on a tin drum marching to a soundwhat is it I think?am I beating on a tin drum marching to a causewhen I don't know what it is I believelonely peeping chickcalling to his motherruns amuckin a sunken black ditchand wilham's with the widowwhile martha's in the meadowand the lamb is a layin in sickand the boy in backis talking some slackto the king of auld lang syneand my heart goes outbut I cannot spout what I do not know insideholding tight in the stillness of my mindin the stillness of my thoughtyet, I know I've only started

 

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