Talkin' 'bout a revolution.

The Deal's Gone Down, and the Salt's Been Sold - panic and destruction make a soul grow cold. There's something in the air tonight...

Thursday 4th June 2009

Perhaps it will be televised, and clatter through the mainframe; and carry through the chaos of the tangled, throbbing airwaves; with every cable buzzing it may thunder through the systems; and shatter every signal with the force of many thousands; listeners, who for years have prayed in hope of something moving; and particles and pixels will collide to feed the lightning; and enter every lonely eye that sleeping waits for morning, and every restless, hungry heart that yearned for a renewal; and those electric choruses will sing a new beginning…

But younger still, it may in fact, come rising from within; from deep inside the chambers of these hearts where it may harbour, and pumping like a solid flood that starts in sonic boom…

Boom…

Through rusty veins and dusty brains, that tidal wave may whisper; and growing in the echo of its own sporadic chorus it may wash away the embers of the fires of resentment, to crash in blinding light and music through the breach exploding, one gunshot-blast straight to the skull to throw the curtains open…

And those who feel it first will lift the cry from every watchtower, and those who need it most from every corner will come running, who in the shadows felt their silent patience start to falter; who watched as every Lizard-Leader lied another lifetime; and took reward for thievery and crept off into midnight; they walked the streets and heard the howl of Thatcherite destruction, that through the generations came to rest upon Our doorstep; who demonized, heard hollow cries of long-dead revolution, from children of the Sixties, naked, each, in fact, a starship, who told Us of that history, and how We should have been there (whilst sitting on their lunch-break from their job at Marks and Spencer).

That age is dead, and on its grave, the stakes may now be planted, to hold the platform to the stars on which the millions gather, and watch the pyres burn throughout the cities of the ancients, to summon through the lifelessness a fresh new revolution; an age of truth and freedom and a springtime of expression; and every voice, again, may join to sing, with sweet conviction, that old and past refrain, that long since lost its gentle meaning…

“Come on, people now, smile on your brother, everybody get together, try to love one another right now…”