Monday, August 22, 2011

Monday's Poetry: "Eve of Destruction"

by Pa Rock
Old Hippie


Tonight I seem to be focused on war and remembering the era that I came of age:  the 1960's.  Several watershed events happened during that decade including the Vietnam War, America's struggle to integrate her schools, public places, and the hearts of her citizens, the space race, and the assassination of a very popular and much loved President.  The following, "Eve of Destruction", was a protest song written by P.F. Sloan in 1965, and recorded by several artists.   The version by Barry McGuire became the most famous and enduring.  The song makes reference to each of those watershed events that washed over America during that turbulent decade.

Currently we are struggling with the war in Afghanistan, the longest in our nation's history - and the war in Iraq in which our departure from the field of battle seems to be constantly moving off into the hazy future.  It now appears that the ultimate bill for those wars will be paid in large measure by cuts in our social safety net.  War is now, as it was in the 1960's, good business.  Taking care of those in need apparently is not.

These words still make my blood boil!

Eve of Destruction
by P.F. Sloan


The eastern world, it is exploding
Violence flarin', bullets loadin'
You're old enough to kill, but not for votin'
You don't believe in war, but what's that gun you're totin'
And even the Jordan River has bodies floatin'

But you tell me
Over and over and over again, my friend
Ah, you don't believe
We're on the eve
of destruction.

Don't you understand what I'm tryin' to say
Can't you feel the fears I'm feelin' today?
If the button is pushed, there's no runnin' away
There'll be no one to save, with the world in a grave
[Take a look around ya boy, it's bound to scare ya boy]

And you tell me
Over and over and over again, my friend
Ah, you don't believe
We're on the eve
of destruction.

Yeah, my blood's so mad feels like coagulatin'
I'm sitting here just contemplatin'
I can't twist the truth, it knows no regulation.
Handful of senators don't pass legislation
And marches alone can't bring integration
When human respect is disintegratin'
This whole crazy world is just too frustratin'

And you tell me
Over and over and over again, my friend
Ah, you don't believe
We're on the eve
of destruction.

Think of all the hate there is in Red China
Then take a look around to Selma, Alabama
You may leave here for 4 days in space
But when you return, it's the same old place
The poundin' of the drums, the pride and disgrace
You can bury your dead, but don't leave a trace
Hate your next-door neighbor, but don't forget to say grace
And… tell me over and over and over and over again, my friend
You don't believe
We're on the eve
Of destruction
Mm, no no, you don't believe
We're on the eve 
of destruction.



(Note:  The writer stated that the line about the "pounding drums" was a reference to the Kennedy assassination.)

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