The Drummer

1
The drummer beats slowly, the drummer beats loud
     As he beats of Humanity wrapped in a shroud.
          Well he beats of the bone bags Dame Famine’s designed
              As she ravished and plagued us since dawn of mankind;
     And he beats of Lord Boss letting oranges decay
          While a child suffers scurvy and passes away;
               And he beats of the beasts we’ve so needlessly slain
                    And of critters and creatures cast off in distain;
     And he beats of combatants who’re dying deceived
          As the merchants of murder count profits received;
               And he beats of the rape and the killing of war
                    And the mind blinding sorrow we blithely ignore.
He beats and he pounds till our consciences gnaw
     And his fingers are battered and bloody and raw
          And his hands are all broken and bleeding and raw.
2
The drummer beats slowly, the drummer beats loud
     As he beats of abuse that we try to becloud.
          Well he beats of the barons and princes and kings
               Who have broken our backs while crushing our wings
     And he beats of the bribes that the powerful make
          To key politicians who fawn in their wake;
               And he beats of the waifs bound and chained to machines
                    And of slaves in the fields and other such scenes;
     And he beats of decrees stating all men are free
          While ignoring the blacks and their agonised plea;
               And he beats of the tyrants in clerical garb
                    Who have tortured with faggots and thumbscrews and barb.
He beats and he pounds till revealing the flaw
     And his fingers are battered and bloody and raw
           And his hands are all broken and bleeding and raw.
3
The drummer beats slowly, the drummer beats loud
     As he beats of the strength of the rebels so proud.
          Well he beats of the spirit the rack couldn’t break,
               And the flame of the flesh that was burned at the stake;
     And he beats of the minds that could never be chained
          By the faith that was living while ignorance reigned;
               And he beats of the struggles when Spartacus rose
                    Having tired of shackles and slavery’s woes; 
      And he beats of the women who’ll die to be freed
          And will never give up till they finally succeed;
               And he beats of the progress outliving the jeers
                    So belying the pessimist’s fatuous sneers.
He beats and he pounds till we stand back in awe
     And his fingers are battered and bloody and raw
          And his hands are all broken and bleeding and raw.
4
The drummer beats slowly, the drummer beats loud
     As he beats of the sights that he’s seen from a cloud.
          Well he beats of the meadows pale yellow and green
               And of lakes in a wood and a river serene;
     And he beats of the passion when lovers have lain
          With their bodies entwined midst a field of lush grain;
               And he beats of the joy when a mother has smiled
                    While she’s nursing her baby, her newly born child;
     And he beats of the sorrow upwelling inside
          Leaving shadows and ruins when loved ones have died;
               And he beats of faint images haunting his dream
                    Of a time when compassion and love reign supreme.
He beats and he pounds till we see what he saw
     And his fingers are battered and bloody and raw
          And his hands are all broken and bleeding and raw.
*
The drummer beats slowly, the drummer beats loud

     And he beats of Humanity wrapped in a shroud
     And he beats of abuse that we try to becloud.
     And he beats of the strength of the rebels so proud.
     And he beats of the sights that he’s seen from a cloud.

     And he beats and he pounds till our consciences gnaw
     And he beats and he pounds till revealing the flaw
     And he beats and he pounds till we stand back in awe
     And he beats and he pounds till we see what he saw

And his fingers are battered and bloody and raw
And his hands are all broken and bleeding and raw.

And his hands are all broken ... and bleeding ... and raw ...