Cold

I wrote this in March 2003, before the start of the second Iraq war. I put it away at the end of 2008 thinking it was no longer relevant. Sadly, it's back.

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We’re coming into a cold spell.

Something’s wrong, you don’t feel well.

We’ve been here before, can’t you tell

That it’s cold?

The politicians have sold out.

The little fellow ain’t got no clout.

The greed and corruption are all about.

And it’s cold.

Won’t somebody turn up the heat?

Get up, start moving your feet.

Go out and dance in the street.

And see who you meet.

The media won’t tell you

Only half of what they report is true;

Which half depends on your point of view

When it’s cold.

The President won’t let you see

All those good things he’s doing for you and me.

Some things are best done in secrecy

When it’s cold.

Won’t somebody turn up the heat?

Get up, start moving your feet.

Go out and dance in the street.

And see who you meet.

Your government knows where you’ve been,

Where you’re going and who’s your friend.

They’re watching you and they’re listenin’,

And it’s cold.

You might make that new list.

But don’t you fret, you won’t be missed.

For teaching peace you’re a terrorist

When it’s cold. It’s cold.

Won’t somebody turn up the heat?

Get up, start moving your feet.

Go out and dance in the street.

And see who you meet.