before the storm

you know the story and you tell it straight
it is not yours but still you know the need
whatever happens you will not blame fate

the horse may shiver at the starting gate
its jockey now knows better than to plead
you know the story and you tell it straight

each fire is banked up right behind the grate
we need the warmth but have no wish for speed
whatever happens you will not blame fate

no hasty action will break the last plate
whoever does the washing has to bleed
you know the story and you tell it straight

my father learned to write on broken slate
what others had was vanity or greed
whatever happens you will not blame fate

the best ones travel slowly and as freight
knowing true propaganda is the deed
you know the story and you tell it straight
whatever happens you will not blame fate