The Movement

It starts out to be so brave
To force the world to be its slave
And many hurt to do its work
So that soon all will be saved.

But somewhere among the Din
It lets something else creep in
And things once thought to be for nought
Now are considered acceptable sin.

And soon there comes a time
That many are startled to find
That nothing has changed at all
And we only exchanged its kind.

Doubt once in
Plays havoc with our Win
And now in its great strength
Embraces all it finds within.

How we do our best to hide
Any view of this outside
But uncertainty prevails and inside of us quails
Making what we do contrived.

Our voices still proudly stream
Our views of what we claim we've seen
Yet despite our eagerness and joy
What we say sometimes sounds obscene.

And soon we are not alone
Others play a different song
And all we say and all our drive
can't interfere with what has grown.

And one day its gone again
No matter how many our men
Nor how mighty our side
And we can only say "I remember when."

You hear patches of the same refrain
That time has continually worn down
Like splotches of paint on a fence outside
That rain and wind has weathered all around.

The force of this persuasion
By Times processes of invasion
Have left us a tune still heard
But now regarded as a little absurd.

The music has no charm
Time has worn its melody down
And the events of the day which hid its way
Are now clearly visible through Times Play.

And no longer does it have force
To move people to remorse
And takes its place this new day
Among all those things that have passed away.

There seems to be a regular rhyme
Of ideas that move through Time
That no matter what the sign
Has its day and passes on.