I wrote this folk song a year ago about Greta Thunberg (remember her!?) and the words came to me last night. Will I record it? Who knows, but I will share the words now. Consider them a first draft.
Song for Greta
Jesus, John Lennon, and Kennedy said:
"Shoot Greta Thunberg! She's better off dead."
but nobody shot her, they ignored her instead,
except for publicity reasons.
And a million protestors clicked 'March' on their phones
then ordered a pizza, delivered by drones,
and a public opinion written by clones
for on Twitter it's hunting season.
And a high-horse in its ivory block-of-flat-tower
shut the door after bolting the city
It retired from the farm, and the circus, and track
to become a professional object of pity.
And the grass sang a song
to the stars in the infinite sky
and the melody was greener than the green that it had
and the only words were why, why why why why...
Well the birds shook their heads, for the early-worms died
when they urbanised countryside
and the scarecrows were booted off to the seaside
and their services sold and bartered.
And the herring argued fishing rights, anxiously red,
for the trawlers in power had to keep the world fed
and the rest of the fish thought they'd all end up dead,
and none of them shot and martyred.
And with an air of regret
the sun winked and set;
it had hoped for something better,
so it joined Instagram for free
and didn't notice the irony
when it decided to follow Greta.
