Winter of Discontent

Now is the winter of our discontent,
Made intolerable by this glorious sun of coal
And all the clouds that gather over Europe, the world
Is in the dark chamber of politic buried
Now are our brows and minds bound with pointed vicious wraths
By men of power with no change in their pace

Our feats hung up for monuments
Our crisis changed to merry meetings
Our fatigue, hunger and will made to merry measures
Grim-visaged war hath smoothed our heated front
And slowed our vigour and advance

And now — instead of mounting our battle-ready steeds
To fright the souls of fearful adversaries
We spend time prancing in name of comfort, pleasure, and luxury
To the lascivious pleasing of a beat

But we are not made for sportive tricks
Nor made to court a beautiful looking mirror

In this fragile time of peace
We have no delight in passing away the time
To entertain these fair well-spoken days
Of congress and conference

Are we determined to fight for change?
And leave the values of people past

Or to join them
And walk towards mayhem
Equally fast