Some men spend a lifetime
in the hope they can devise
A chart which will an able man
then someday analyze
The wretched men who stumble then
somehow cannot arise
They'll pay one man to draw
the charts another to declare
What secret signs are in the lines
but do they really care
That one is long and one is short
and one line is not there
For charts or abstract documents
that cannot have a soul
They cannot tell why this man fell
and that one reached his goal
Nor can they tell why some re
bel and lose all self control
I think a thousand years from now
as it was long ago
Two roads will be for all to see
but which way will man go
Will he arise toward the skies to
reach for some new plateau
Will he devise a brave new world a
world thus far unknown
Will he plow under all the seeds
of greed and hate he sewn
Or will he steal the very field he plants his
hopes upon
As long as there are two such roads
a man can look upon
As long as some men linger deep within the
twilight zone
The weak will always take the road
that leads to wall of stone
There should be made a stone
blockade torn from the prison stone
And make a wall across all roads man
should not walk upon
And let the seeds of bitter weeds grow
till that road is gone
Then those who sot in higher power those
who hold the might
Could then direct the hordes of
men on to the way that's right
And then the men who draw the charts would also
see the
light