Those of you that Know Me

by Kirk Morgan

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Those of you that know me
May have seen me playing on the street
You know that I ain't rich or famous
And nor would I much care to be
Sometimes I scrape a living as a troubadour
But I've been a clerk and a dishwasher and, oh, many things more
I've done what it took to keep the wolf from the door
Without screwing any woman or man
I've been to a good university
I've dug a thousand books or more
All these years since, every day I've been brooding
On money and power and war

But nobody Seems to care
Nobody seems to give a damn
I know we're defined by the nine-to-five grind
But nobody even seems to want to understand
Even though the seas may choke
Even though the south may starve
Even though our children could die in the hour
In unimaginable horror
In an arms race that your taxes are paying for.

So I joined political parties
And I worked for the church
I played countless shows for charity
And I gave it all I was worth
But for all their good intentions each of them lied
All had their dogmas and it made them all blind
So I'll shave my head and cut the fat from my mind
'Cause we're rapidly running out of time

But the few that think more widely
You know that they'll never get ahead
Because those that would try to change your mind
Are sidelined or silenced or wind up dead
Even though the rivers may stink
Even though we're riddled with disease
Even though our media is provably distorting our picture of the world
And is owned by a handfull of billionaires.

In case you should think I'm preaching
I've been a hypocrite too
I have done my harms and told my lies and shut my eyes like you
But I've never owned a television
So I've read and I've read and I've read and I've read
And in the deepest and brightest and sharpest of thinking
I've traced a connecting thread

Oh Buddha, Jesus, Elijah Mohammed
Tom Paine and Cobbett and Morris and Marx
Ghandi and luxembourg and Martin Luther King
Steinbeck and Fresco and Klein, all of them
They say we're not living as we should
And they point to the same rotted roots
Of a black vine that's climbed over all of our lives
Stunts what should grow as it strangles the light
It's stout arm a gallows we'll hang ourselves by
If we do not immediately and diligently try
To tear through its shadow and set things aright
So stand in the darkness and no more recline
So raise up your voices and heave no more sighs
There's no spider as strong as the strength of a hive
A sweetness that's born in the guts of a lion.


released August 22, 2016




Kirk Morgan Cardiff, UK

Kirk Morgan is a singer and songwriter, as well as being front man of the South Wales folk/blues troupe The Dock Town Pearls. He can be seen in many of the cities along the Severn peddling his original music and renditions of forgotten classics.

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