Undone Yet – Sou Macmillan

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40 strong and drunk as 100 on fury
Lean with the fighting but well fed
We march together
We have the tools for this - 
                              black ink and vacuum tubes
                              telegraphs and two wicked beat boxers
                              a shovel & a good knife
We have a mind turned for fixing things
We bury our own dead
Sister Machine, wife of The Engine, leads us
She sweats oil, I swear

This ain’t over yet
Get the gramophone outta yer cloak & set the needle
Hang all yer paper angels by the throats
Spin the tumblers like you mean it
Ain’t got no time for for business or bullshit
Got three good years, according to myth
& Brother Fox brought the liquor

Don’t it make yer blind eye shine
Don’t it make a jake leg dance
Don’t it make a dead dog glimmer in the heat
& the ghosts rise up to meet us
Sister Machine, wife of The Engine, leads us
& the hand of God shoves from behind

Sing us out now, o, Glorious Beatboxers
Spin up the fire hydrant, Merry Soldiers
Brew us up some coffee, Telegraph Men
Sister Machine, wife of The Engine,
                          she says we don’t need no husband for this work
                          she says we just need the people
                                                          & the people
                                                          & the people

& the people
Are marching up a big bad bang

Broken chains to the Architect
Poems for the Glorious Bullshitters
High heeled shoes for all the dancers we got (1)
& pretty up the pony for the Princess too proud to walk
This ain’t no romance
This ain’t no Old Time Religion
Ain’t got no radical revolution or red books

Beat up a drum for the dangerous and the dandy too
We don’t

But something gotta change
& and change is in the air
So says Sister Machine

& the Engine picks up his fancy head to hear
& the Engine tries too hard not to care
& the Engine steams like forced downtime

But this

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