STOP THE MACHINES

Stop the machines now.

We must be heard.  Now!

You have claimed our best:

The young ones, their dreams;

Old ones, broken with grief;

Loved ones, long since lost.

Our smallest cry out

For the food to sustain.

Where are the healing arts

For those in the throes of death,

Breathing air you spoiled,

Drinking waters poisoned by you,

Eating food grown in ground

So tainted it grows only death?

Must we all slowly die

With starvation of the body,

The mind and even the soul

To keep the machines alive?

Stop! the machines now!

Is no one humane in charge?

We can no longer be grist alone.

How long until we refuse?

Why are your needs so great

That we must die just reaching for love,

While you give not one single sign

Or one single drop to show you care?

Will your machines still roar

If we are not there?

Devour us if you will, machines.

We will be gone yet free.

Of course, we will all be dead.

But how will the machines run then?

Who would you operate for?

Come, all my fellow workmen.

Listen well, you machine masters.

Come feed our hungry,

Clothe the naked,

Heal the sickened ones,

Provide for those starved

For some token of love,

Share gracefully in humility.

Stop these machines now.

Stop, stop, stop, stop.