novus ordo saeclorum

this marks the spot at which the music died
you laugh to hear the story then lament
too soon you know begins the swift descent
and not a one can bear the long wild ride
you have no friend in whom you could confide
and no allies to show or represent
either the process or the last event
and this is too much even for your pride
so much depends upon a word or sign
and you have not enough to hang a flag
or wave a placard at the coming horde
there's not a hope that change will be benign
the ones to be are full of shout and brag
and we who go have left a most bare board