Planet of the Clowns
Bruce Cockburn
Stare into the moonlight
Silver fingers press my eyes
Probing in my heart with longing
These footprints by the sea's edge
Disappearing grain by grain
Lose their form but keep their substance
As the waves roar on the beach like a squadron of F16's
Ebb and flow like the better days they say this world has seen
Government by outrage
Hunger camps and shanty towns
Dignity and love still holding
This blue-green ball in black space
Filled with beauty even now
Battered and abused and lovely
And the waves roar on the beach like a squadron of F16's
Ebb and flow like the better days they say this world has seen
Each one in our own heart
Desperate to know where we stand
Planet of the clowns in wet shoes