Justin Wiebe Dance of the Puppets	back to table of contents back to main

Marionettes of the working class,
Rickety backs and painted smiles.
They dream of gold and silver,
To lose their strings just for a while.

With blue collars buttoned up too tight,
And old boots with soles worn thin,
They all line up to punch a clock,
Which makes their day begin.

          So while the puppets keep on marching,
          The band plays on and on,
          With no new rhyme or reason,
          Just the same old dance and song.

The day goes on like any day.
Yesterday, and the day before.
Though tomorrow may be different,
You just can't tell for sure.

Till then, the grind--it keeps a-grinding,
And the whistle blows at five o'clock.
Back in the morning to do it all again,
Even though their gears are shot.

          Yes, while the puppets keep on marching,
          The band plays on and on,
          With no new rhymes or reasons,
          Just the same old dance and song.

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