An American March
Where are the marchers and where did the go?
A song of silence for the strong of will.
It is unfortunate how many pills
The whole lot has been made to swallow.
And I take them too when I’m feeling blue.
But the blues is what I sing.
So when we are done,
With the trivial ones.
Let us all sing a different song
And let it be a march in double time
With all those old jazzy rhymes.