Echoes

There are echoes of the future in our rivers and trees
quietly stagnating in smoke and fire
drowning in profit, you can hear the strain
of stooped backs and urgent desire

The wind, it cries as the sounding alarms
a cascade of injustice and fear
awashed in poverty and mechanized tumult
while the forests...they just dissappear

Can you hear the echoes over backbreaking labor
of the rich condemning us all
or those trapped in prisons or covered in blood
waiting for the ax to fall

Ya Basta! Enough! yell the struggling masses
let the strike be your introduction
gather your neighbors and all people who work
and seize the means of production