Prologue:  Thank You For Your Attention To This Matter

Even when the burning twilight path of history comes to rest

Upon the weary shoulders of the brightest and the best
Upon the single mothers, the tax collectors, and the poor
Upon the wretched immigrants in cages on our shore
Upon the scientists and mathematicians who struggle to be seen
Upon the loss of reason to the point that its obscene
Upon the unions and the socialists
Upon those in prison and those on trial
Upon the sick and homeless people who live in conditions that are vile.
Upon the rainbow warriors among us 
who have paid the highest fee
Whose persecution is a reminder of the worst that we can be
And had the ship not lost its rudder
Lost its mast, lost its sail
Had the crew protected the cargo
The Constitution, holy grail
Had Providence not lost its sense of mission,
Lost the map or hid the keys
Had we only seen with clarity
The ocean through the seas

And even when democracy is a punch drunk pugilist spinning on its heels

And lady enlightenment has caught the last train out of town
But the train has wobbly wheels
And an assassin's bullet missed its mark by an inch or maybe three
And your heart chokes up with sorrow on the thought of what might be 
Had the aim been practiced longer
Had the Secret Service turned and looked away
Had the bullet been guided by an angel on behalf of judgement day.
Had the day been minutes longer
Had the heart not skipped a beat
Had ignoble luck not turned a blind eye 
That kept the bully on his feet.
And had the ship not lost its rudder
Lost its mast, lost its sail
Had the crew protected the cargo
The Constitution, holy grail
Had Providence not lost its sense of mission,
Lost the map or hid the keys
Had we only seen with clarity
The ocean through the seas

And even when the nation’s candle is but a nub of flickering flame

And the shadow cast upon our soul speaks volumes for our shame
And our complicity is a dirty white flag in a war that was never fought
while in the mirror we stare at a face that's either been sold or been bought.
And from whence great well of bravery will we sip from common glass
And turn back the wave of hopelessness that springs from our morass

We must find the ship a rudder
Shape a mast from broken beams
Sew a sail from all the stories
That were cast off as foolish dreams
We have to find a crew of many hands and colors
No brightest few, no chosen caste
Just ordinary, common people
Who remember - without rose colored glasses -  a somewhat better past

 And while the sea remains unforgiving
And the shoreline impossible to see
Let’s remember ships are guided
less by faith than by degree
Of the care we give one another
On these darkened seas of doubt
That hope is not a feeling found
but an action carried out.