I guess we all stopped listening to what we didn’t like.
You could turn down the volume and cut off the mike.
You could cut yourself off from half the people in town
Until their voices came through like hard rain slashing down.
There’s a flashlight I hold with my trembling hand
And it flickers through darkness out across our big land.
It’s all I can do to hold it, to manage this one little thing,
To keep the fireworks crackling and to hear freedom ring.
