I'M Just Gonna Keep On Choppin

“I just started choppin’!” he said Chopped so long his hands were bare Split open, blistered like a cherry pie It was the day after Auschwitz So mad at the world, at the Nazi’s, at God “So I’m just gonna chop!” he said A swing and a CRACK! A swing and a CRACK! Splintering wood, chips fly in the air The fourth of July, wood sparks everywhere Like split open skulls, the logs laid bare So filled up with steam, huff and puff Till he’s flush in the face But that axe keeps climbing It’s way above his head and his shoulders To rest a moment before it enters The wooden fibers to split between “D--- the world!” and “D--- the Nazi’s!” How could you let this happen? How could you make this happen? With your rooms filled of shoes and glasses and hair And the buildings of luggage and flesh lamp skins How could you let this happen? How could you make this happen? “I’m just gonna keep on choppin! Till the cows come home!” He said, “I’m just gonna keep on choppin’! Forever and ever!” “But sir,” I said, “won’t you run out of wood? And then you’ll end up like them.”