A big locomotive has pulled into town,
Heavy, humungus, with sweat rolling down,
A plump jumbo olive.
Huffing and puffing and panting and smelly,
When plastered billboards scream with slogans
'fight for your country, go to battle'
When media's print assults your senses,
'Support our leaders' shrieks and rattles...
I roast in the sun, old wretch...
I lie, and yawn, I stretch.
Old am I, but full of pep:
When I take a slug from the cup
A box with paints from childhood's time:
The colors of town are earth and grime.
An old worker at a dark doorway squats,
Grass, grass up to my knees!
Grow up to the sky
So that there won't seem to be
Any you or I
Hooray, the echo will resound throughout the wide square,
When a sincere drunkard's song emanates from my throat;