November 27, 2004

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  Uncle Dave's Grace

  
  

  ©1999 L&P Berryman.
  Words by Peter Berryman, Music by Lou Berryman

  
  

  Thanksgiving day Uncle Dave was our guest

  
  

  Who reads the Progressive* which makes him depressed

  
  

  We asked uncle dave if he'd like to say grace

  
  

  A dark desolation crept over his face

  
  

  Thanks he began as he gazed at his knife

  
  

  To poor Mr. Turkey for living his life

  
  

  All crowded and cramped in a great metal shed

  
  

  Where life was a drag then they cut off his head

  
  

  Thanks he went on for the grapes in my wine

  
  

  Picked by sick women of seventy nine

  
  

  Scramb'ling all morning for bunch after bunch

  
  

  Then brushing the pesticide off of their lunch

  
  

  Thanks for the stuffing all heaped on my fork

  
  

  Shiny with sausage descended from pork

  
  

  I think of the trucks full of pigs that I see

  
  

  And can't help imagine what they think of me

  
  

  Continuing, I'd like to thank if you please

  
  

  Our salad bowl hacked out of tropical trees

  
  

  And for this mahogany table and chair

  
  

  We thank all the jungles that used to be there

  
  

  For cream in our coffee and milk in our mugs

  
  

  We thank all the cows full of hormones and drugs

  
  

  Whose calves are removed at a very young age

  
  

  And force-fed as veal in a miniscule cage

  
  

  Oh thanks for the furnace that heats up these rooms

  
  

  And thanks for the rich fossil fuel it consumes

  
  

  corrupting the atmosphere ounce after ounce

  
  

  But we're warm and toasty and that is what counts

  
  

  I'm grateful he said for these clothes on my back

  
  

  Lovely and comfy and cheap off the rack

  
  

  Fashioned in warehouses noisy and cold

  
  

  In China by seamstresses seven years old

  
  

  And thanks for my silverware setting that shines

  
  

  In mem'ry of miners who died in the mines

  
  

  Worn down by the shov'ling of tailings in piles

  
  

  Whose runoff destroys all the rivers for miles

  
  

  We thank the reactors for our chandelier

  
  

  Although the plutonium won't disappear

  
  

  For hundreds of decades it still will be there

  
  

  But a few more Chernobyls and who's gonna care?

  
  

  Sighed Uncle Dave tho there's more to be told

  
  

  The wine's getting warm and the bird's getting cold

  
  

  And with that he sat down as he mumbled again

  
  

  Thank you for everything, amen

  
  

  We felt so guilty when he was all thru

  
  

  It seemed there was one of two things we could do

  
  

  Live without food in the nude in a cave

  
  

  Or next year have someone else say grace

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