'Time Will Tell'
(Written In Memory Of Anarchist Martial Bourdin)
By Ruairidh Anderson
www.songsfromthehowlingsea.com
The air was keen, the air was still,
But nipped at held trying to test the will of youth, unconquered soul.
No second thought to turn aside,
Just cold resolve and steely eye on change from Pole to Pole.
But life can throw a curve ball.
You call it straight and you'll face a spin.
Stirner, Proudhon, Joe Dejacque,
Singing in the ear, wind in the back like sails on building waves.
A heart can birth, a brain compute but it needs a hand to execute and faith to seize the day.
Life can throw a curve ball.
You call it straight and you'll face a spin.
And who do you turn to?
Who do you call when the sky falls in?
Our feet they tread on mortal soil,
Plans Virgin blessed or cursed to spoil.
And that tedious song of time will tell which way the hand you hold was dealt.
For brother, sister, stranger, kin,
Then all at once a breath drew in, hope sprang a fateful leak.
The stern hand of fate scourged the earth,
Ideals laid bare in blood and dirt and sword returned to sheath.
Life can throw a curve ball.
You call it straight and you'll face a spin.
And who do you turn to?
Who do you call when the sky falls in?
Our feet they tread on mortal soil,
Plans Virgin blessed or cursed to spoil.
But the tedious song of time will what
Wisdom's thoughts may pave a way,
But all we have is held today,
And that tedious song of time will tell which way the hand you hold was dealt.
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