Nightmare

I try to imagine how this mess we've created - climate change, plutocracy- is going to end and it's not a pretty picture. It's already started far enough from us to ignore: drought, food shortages, disease, riots, genocide as the usual final solution. We repeat endlessly that we'll be spared all this, being so civilized and all, but look more closely and you'll see the sides being chosen for class warfare - and water shortages and the rest aren't even in the mix yet. We're riding a runaway train out of control. I'm lucky. I should be dead from natural causes before the worst happens but, man, I feel for you, faced with such a future. I ask myself, What would I do if I were in your shoes? I think I know. I'd revive my show "Ramblin'", an appreciation of the songs and stories of Woody Guthrie. And I'd sing at the top of my lungs That ol' dust storm blew my house down but it can't blow me down and it can't blow me down That ol' dust storm killed my babies but it can't kill me, Lord and it can't kill me and I'd sing this as long as I had breath because in times of crisis a man has to live his own epitaph.