We are many, buddy, they
are few. Ry Cooder
We that have done and thought,
That have thought and done,
Must ramble and thin out
Like milk spilled on a stone. W.B. Yeats
We that have done and thought,
That have thought and done,
Must ramble and thin out
Like milk spilled on a stone. W.B. Yeats
We own the power, if we’d just seize it.
If only that were true!
Who are WE, anyway?—
only those who are still here this instant—
we may seem many, but some few
only those who are still here this instant—
we may seem many, but some few
of us have already vanished into
darkness, and more will soon be wasting in that Tophet
the few are building for us—all us true-
darkness, and more will soon be wasting in that Tophet
the few are building for us—all us true-
blue hearts, who'd like to renew
the battle but can’t quite get down to it.
A moiety will survive—like those few
the battle but can’t quite get down to it.
A moiety will survive—like those few
vulnerable wandering enclaves after the breaking of the great Sioux
reservation of the Black Hills
by men whose only true
love was gold. Whoreservation of the Black Hills
by men whose only true
will live to tell our story? who’ll be left to hear it,
of the many, buddy, that we were—now few—
and say it isn’t true?
