Oh, well, I waited for almost 90 mins, nobody has objected (or nobody has read the thread, perhaps you're all glued to the TV screens). So here goes the first installment. Slow laid-back rhythm, the tune is supposed to be wistful:

THE FLOWERS AND THE GUNS
(an indictment for my generation)

Where are the flowers that we put
    into the muzzles of the guns?
Dried up and pressed inside a frame,
    they never get a second glance.
The love that we would banish war with,
    on bombed out streets now naked stands.
Where are the flowers that we put
    into the muzzles of the guns?

Where is the innocence of youth,
    the stars that once were in our eyes?
When did we learn to cover truth
    with our excuses and our lies?
When did our ideals falter?
    Tell me, when did we change our plans?
Where are the flowers that we put
    into the muzzles of the guns?

Our lives from others we have learned to separate
From evil we avert our eyes.
More often war it is, and not love, that we make
And all the time we compromise.

We used to turn the other cheek,
    but now we turn our face away.
We were the blessed and the meek;
    our future brighter than the day.
But we've forgotten Luther's message;
    we never ask ourselves, not once:
Where are the flowers that we put
    into the muzzles of the guns?

But we've arrived, and as we pat each other's backs,
Our principles we now betray
And year on year as we progress and we advance,
It's not just hair that's turning grey...

Where are the flowers that we put
    into the muzzles of the guns?
Where are the lessons we would pass
    on to our daughters and our sons?
And did we ever make a difference?
    and did we ever stand a chance?
Where are the flowers that we put
    into the muzzles of the guns?

(Copyright 2002 George Papavgeris)

Next installment tomorrow.