The Evening News

The Evening News
By: J. Crafton & K. Bachman

A voice cried out at the edge of the park
And there was no-one that heard it
In the mist and the dark
But there at the edge
Where they scheme and they plan
They’re moving a light
To distract every man

And wisdom can’t reach you
If they won’t let you hear
And they keep up the noise
To quell any fear
And just like Houdini
It’s there and it’s gone
Makes you sort through the clutter
But his message lives on

And try as they might
They can’t keep him down
And given the moment
He’ll run them to ground
But slick as they are
Though agile and blind
They turn up the sound
Makes it harder to find

What he’s saying is real
But you need every word
But their racket gets louder
So his story’s not heard
And they throw off your eyes
To the death of a bird
So no one remembers
The bit that they heard

And their heatin it up
We won’t know till its hell
And they’ll suck us all dry
With their hose in the well
Our waters in plastic
Our food it’s in foam
And nothing can live
Where the buffalo roam




But shiny and bright
And noisy and new
And the newsman won’t cover
The things that they do
They keep us distracted
And buyin their line
But the voice at the edge of the park
Could be mine.

Did you hear a voice
Did you hear a voice
Did you hear a voice
Did you hear a voice
The voice at the edge of the park’s
Yours and mine.

And infamy travels
On wings made of steel
And nothing makes sense
When you don’t know what’s real
He’s out there to tell us
That the voice in the night
There’s things goin on
And somethins not right

May be hazards ahead
Down this road that we’re on
But we won’t get the news
Till this planet is gone
And out there he’s standing
Alone in the dark
A voice that is crying At the edge of the park
A voice that is crying At the edge of the park