MARCHING BAND OF MISERY

I am walking alone
on a road of dust and sharp stones.
I am aching to my bones.
I am aching to find my way home.

Ready since the days and nights we were born,
we’ve stood strong, fought hard, and fallen over.
From the highest mountaintop to the lowest valley low,
from the blue behind the clouds to the stones beneath the clover,

we’ve sung the songs of love they taught us to sing.
We’ve held the hands held out to us in love, pride, and need.
And while we were all basking in the glow from our hearts of gold,
we broke the earth and shook it with our greed.

Every girl, every boy, every dog, and every mule,
we march our ragged line down the twisted lanes of history
Every woman, every man, every last heartbroken fool,
come join the cavalcade, our caravan, this marching band of misery.

When it feels like every day keeps getting tougher than the last,
when it sounds like every voice keeps growing louder and rougher,
when they’ve sold you up a toxic river on a leaky plastic raft,
when you know down in your bones that to live is to suffer.

When you’ve begun to wonder if you’ll find your promised land,
when you’ve long ago resolved you’ll never solve that mystery,
when you’ve stood so long you don’t recall why you ever made a stand,
come on along, fall in with our merry marching band of misery.

Every girl, every boy, every ghost, and every ghoul—
we march our ragged line through the haunted halls of history.
Every woman, every man, every last heartbroken fool (c’est moi!),
come join the cavalcade, our caravan, this marching band of misery.

So much misery!