43

Mill House

The doors are all locked, there are no windows,
Yet, somehow we seem to get in.
We've got to get out the way we came.
The question is will we...and when?

And the mills keep on turning
And the house is still burning
And we, the people, can't get out.
There's blood on the wheat
And it's run to our feet,
And it does no good to shout.

Now, there must be someone who runs the Mill House,
Though I know there's been no one inside
Except for the fools..the fools and the field mouse,
And surely by now they've all died.

And the mills keep on turning ,
And the house is still burning,
And we, the people, are done.
When there's blood on the street,
Will we jump to our feet
Or watch the Mill House run?

Richard C. Hayner
July 1972 ©

© 2001 Middle Sea Studios - Richard C. Hayner - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED