Unwise in the Ys
We start the wars, we fight the wars,
We win them and we lose them;
We argue out the truces and the peace.
We write the laws, we break the laws,
We honour and abuse them;
And either way, our meddling shall increase.
For we are Men, alas, we’re Men,
We’re being masculine again:
We’ve got the whiskers, got the beer –
We’re patriarchitypes, my dear.
For we are He, alas, Himself;
We’ve got the jobs, we’ve got the wealth.
We must be heard ! We shall be heard !
We started with the final word.
At least, that’s how it’s always told
By critic and historian:
From hunter-gather days of old
To present times – the myth is sold
That ev’ry man is brute and bold,
And endlessly Victorian.
But we are more than legacy,
We’ve learned to share and redefine.
The mercy that you beg of me
Is yours these days as much as mine.
For we are us, thank god, ourselves,
We’ve equal now, not trolls and elves –
But that’s enough from me today,
I’d rather hear what you might say.