Mikado and Nonoise said it all. Actually, believe or not, despite the technical & information evolution in so many ways, the world is much worse than fifty-sixty years ago. Remember it ? Back in the swirling sixties Manking had some hope (people like Beatles sang about it), the seventies saw its slow journey to depression, cynicism it was to be exact culminating not only in politics but namely in punk rock and all that rubbish in pop culture. I call it lazy and negative attitude to almost anything so in many ways really. And now finally in the brave new Millenium Mankind has given the power to those who deeply hate democracy, practically everywhere around the globe.
Mankind has learned nothing, unfortunately.
The fate of Mankind is in the hands of fools. Quite literally.
The wall on which the prophets wrote
Is cracking at the seams.
Upon the instruments of death
The sunlight brightly gleams.
When every man is torn apart
With nightmares and dreams.
Will no one lay the laurel wreath
As silence drowns the screams.
Between the iron gates of fate
The seeds of time were sown.
And watered by the deeds of those
Who know and who are known;
Knowledge is a deadly friend
When no one sets the rules.
The fate of all mankind I see
Is in the hands of fools.
Confusion will be my epitaph.
As I crawl a cracked and broken path.
If we make it we can all sit back
and laugh.
But I fear tomorrow I´ll be crying.
Yes I fear tomorrow I´ll be crying.
- Greg Lake, 1969
Mankind has learned nothing, unfortunately.
The fate of Mankind is in the hands of fools. Quite literally.
The wall on which the prophets wrote
Is cracking at the seams.
Upon the instruments of death
The sunlight brightly gleams.
When every man is torn apart
With nightmares and dreams.
Will no one lay the laurel wreath
As silence drowns the screams.
Between the iron gates of fate
The seeds of time were sown.
And watered by the deeds of those
Who know and who are known;
Knowledge is a deadly friend
When no one sets the rules.
The fate of all mankind I see
Is in the hands of fools.
Confusion will be my epitaph.
As I crawl a cracked and broken path.
If we make it we can all sit back
and laugh.
But I fear tomorrow I´ll be crying.
Yes I fear tomorrow I´ll be crying.
- Greg Lake, 1969