There Are A Few Things That'll Move

I Was Called Up In The War And Sent To A Hospital. I Dressed Wounds, Applied Iodine, Gave Enemas, Did Blood Transfusions. If The Doctor Ordered: "brecht, Amputate A Leg!", I Would Reply, "certainly, Your Excellency!", And Cut Off The Leg. If I Was Told, "perform A Trepanning!" I Opened The Man's Skull And Messed About With His Brains. I Saw How They Patched Fellows Up, So As To Cart Them Back To The Front As Quickly As They Could.

In The Dark Times Will There Also Be Singing? Yes, There Will Also Be Singing. About The Dark Times.

The Worst Illiterate Is The Political Illiterate. He Hears Nothing, Sees Nothing, Takes No Part In Political Life. He Doesn't Seem To Know That The Cost Of Living, The Price Of Beans, Of Flour, Of Rent, Of Medicines All Depend On Political Decisions. He Even Prides Himself On His Political Ignorance, Sticks Out His Chest And Says He Hates Politics. He Doesn't Know, The Imbecile, That From His Political Non-participation Comes The Prostitute, The Abandoned Child, The Robber And, Worst Of All, Corrupt Officials, The Lackeys Of Exploitative Multinational Corporations.

Pleasures First Look From Morning's Window The Rediscovered Book Fascinated Faces Snow, The Change Of The Seasons The Newspaper The Dog Dialectics Showering, Swimming Old Music Comfortable Shoes Comprehension New Music Writing, Planting Traveling Singing Being Friendly

The Fanatics For Progress Often Have Too Little Appreciation Of The Existing.