Here's the great Woody Guthrie; it's called 'Feed of Man'. It is one of dozens of lyrics found after his death, some of which have been recently set to music by Wilco and Billy Bragg on the 'Mermaid Avenue' cds (there are two volumes), which I cannot recommend strongly enough without hurting myself. I have divided this text into 'lines' for readability here, basically according to his own capitalizations, but other than that I have preserved his amazingly, passionately original diction, syntax, spelling, punctuation, etc.
Anyway, events in the UK being somewhat beyond /my/ words anyway, I'll let this towering genius of a dead American speak for me.
If you beat up, butcher and you bleed a man:
If you bang up and badger and Bloodlet a man;
And then I come along on the feet of a man
And half way laff and cry 'bout The meat of man,
And I do what I can to Bale string and tie some ballad truths Up
cured out for the feed of man
And folks try to tell me That it's on God's orders that you bleed your man;
It's on God's good word that you Bleed your man;
On God's plan print That you dead a man;
or you spit and curse and whip your man;
I say I'll help you fix and squeeze yourself up a new God of some kind;
One that tells you Fertilize and multiplye;
One that tells you: Outsow and outblow,
Outplant and outgrow; outdo and outrun and outclimb,
and out spread Every other tree and bush and bushyfruits and flower petalls;
Outfruit them all for the feed of man;
Outstalk and out hunt and out think For God's own sweet sake, out think!
Out think! Outthink the fruits Outgrow these animal kind and shapes of man!
If you miss and go down
Your dust will turn up on that long hot job
Once more again To help in the feeding and the seed of man
And not in the bleeding and the end of man.
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