Stuck in a Depression On the Brink of War Again

By Xeno Campanoli

[This paraphrase of Bob Dylan's memphis Blues was published in: News from Nowhere, #2, February 2003 (Free in person or for postage) PO Box 10384, Eugene OR 97440.]



Oh, the wagman draws dangers,

all around the world.

We ask about diplomacy

but that just makes him surly.

And the majority just follows

unquestioning like sheep,

it’s money not their consciences

that bothers them most from sleep.

Oh, Mama, can this really be the end,

To be stuck in a depression

On the brink of war again?

Well, Shrub, he’s in the Whitehouse,

with his cowboy hat and his swagger,

talking to all the cowards and hawks

about foreign policy matters.

And I would like to tell them all,

of how I do not have a job.

But the Congress doesn’t care,

and Shrub just thinks he’s God.

Oh, Mama, can this really be the end,

To be stuck in a depression,

On the brink of war again?

My friends try to tell me

not to talk about politics

your career will go down the toilet

and onto the blacklist you’ll stick.

And I said, “Oh, I didn’t know that.

But then again I haven’t tried that long

and since then I’ve been largely idle

and ignored by every one.”

Oh, Mama, can this really be the end,

To be stuck in a depression,

On the brink of war again?

The lockout died this week,

and now they’re trying to catch up.

But people are still getting layed off

and they don’t have enough trucks.

But you know Shrub had to stop it,

he couldn’t have it now.

It might effect the election.

He almost had a cow.

Oh, Mama, can this really be the end,

To be stuck in a depression,

On the brink of war again?

The Senators, they talked about it.

They had a real debate.

Some really wanted to stop Shrub

before it was too late.

But most wanted just to make sure

they had all their hands

in all the right pockets

in all the right pants.

Oh, Mama, can this really be the end,

To be stuck in a depression,

On the brink of war again?

Now the preacher of moral majority

insists “Sodom” Hussein is Gay,

and that the end times are here,

that we’re almost done anyway,

that we might as well “do what we should”

and be glorious as we end it all.

Some congressmen agree with him

as they mumble in the hall.

Oh, Mama, can this really be the end,

To be stuck in a depression,

On the brink of war again?

Now the organizers suggested protest.

Said we should all come on down

and walk up and down the streets

with signs and chants and frowns.

And me I helped them do that.

and all the congresscritters I called

but people largely ignored us

and just kept watching football.

Oh, Mama, can this really be the end,

To be stuck in a depression,

On the brink of war again?

Now Shrub insists it’s okay

in his honky-tonk vernacular.

He likes to think of his daddy’s wars

in Kuwait and Panama.

He says, “I get to do that too,

after all I’m the President!”

And many of us who would have stopped him

are out of ways to vent.

Oh, Mama, can this really be the end,

To be stuck in a depression,

On the brink of war again?

Now the rubble from the Twin Towers,

and the hundreds there that died

are dwarfed by all the mayhem

our nation has sewn worldwide.

And much of this country sits patiently

waiting to find out who can

get it all payed off secretly

and paint all dissenters as lambs.

Oh, Mama, can this really be the end,

To be stuck in a depression,

On the brink of war again?