Our ethics
discovered in folk songs,
We trusted
they sang the truth;
Won battles blended from the past,
With
fantastic new dreams of youth.
The lyrics
of the protest songs,
Planted us firmly
on solid ground…
We were bulldozers
marching to freedom;
Elusive liberties,
we've still not found.
Aging, defecting from the race,
It is time
to pass the baton…
We drop it
on to a vacant track;
Seems the
values and dreamers are gone.
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