Ah Canada: An Ode to the Disappearing Country

Ah Canada: An Ode to the Disappearing Country
Posted on October 5, 2015 | Malcolm Smith | Written on October 5, 2015
Letter type:

Author's Note:

Author's Note:

I have paid close attention to the way our counrty has morphed since the signing of the original "Free trade agreement". I have seen very little good and this is a reconcilling of what's happened in my own mind.

Ah Canada: An Ode to the Disappearing Country (or perhaps a call to arms?)

Ah Canada
like CN and CP 
you’re right on track
headed south
not coming back

They’ve got our gas
they’ve got our oil
where our country’s green
it’s theirs to spoil

Though once content
to play the foil,
now it seems
that what’s good and ours
is theirs to spoil

Too late!
we realize 
we sold the place
for an Irish tune 
and a lack of grace

We knew something was up,
feared the fix was in
heard They’d bought the “Baritone”
that They’d claimed the “Chin”

A man with no true country
or people to call his own
foul mouthed without limit
save for greenbacks,
bound to be alone

The back room his place of business
where darkness reigns supreme
where he and those who bought him
agreed in principle
to kill a country’s dream

Happy to betray his people
he’d smile and shake your hand
then vilify you behind your back
as only that dude can

And it’s so very sad 
that so many should suffer
for the sake
of this resolutely self-deluded
envelope un-stuffer

What, you say, our country’s gone?
ah, the point is moot,
we’ve still got sun
who gives a hoot

Have we got time
for one last 
Ha, jokes on us 
fast down the track
headed south 
not coming back

We look free
so we don’t care
but lift the wig
and it’s bald up there

Ah, but what if there really is 
no place else to go?
and we’re stuck up here
with the ice and snow

Anyway, now drunkards,
quislings and compradors
we commies, pervs and freaks
they’ll chip away at our 
piece of heaven
until their vile plan’s complete

We’re like the little kid at recess
hands held behind our back
where the bullies all come by
in hopes of one more whack

And there are those of us
who’ll prattle to Them
“Hey, we’re making up your bed, 
polishing up your crown
getting ready 
for the day you march in
and really start to lay it down”

And like the profits of stuff 
we used to own
we’re right on track 
headed south 
not coming back

As They strip us down 
They grin and bear 
Their vile, fiendish teeth 
like hungry sucking vampires
in need of something more to eat

They’ll steal away all that they can 
then enslave us all up nice
for not offering everything up sooner
according their plan
as they smile their sickly smile
and say “come on hey, take it, take it like a man”

Perversity their telling sign 
as they enslave a nation
or several at a time
saying “we’ll help you out if 
you let us strip youbare
and take EVERYTHING we can mine
oh and also the rain from the sky,
we need it you see as we’ve some how 
become so very parched, so unbearably dry”

And hey, when I mention “Americans”
what I really mean 
is their hulking, feral corporations
the antithesis of “Green”
now people designate,
like you and me
but belligerent and sociopathic
with utter disregard for others’ sanctity

"Globalization”, a euphemism
for what they say is true,
is in fact
what they’ve been up to

And they are“freeing” us,
one free trade agreement at a time
of the burden of the liberty
that once made our lives here so incredibly sublime

And now the “Sinister Cowboy”
does Their bidding,
the “Baritone” part two,
the man who learned to smile
at “friendly” barbeques

Hosting people he reviles
putting the “mock”
in democracy,
tearing it all down
because he’s the one who knows what it’s about,
smiling the smile we all paid for
and may well pay for
from here on out

He paints a rosy picture
of how things will be 
when the economy rules everyone 
and everything,
but why let yourself
be titillated by the dull brush strokes
of this neo-con-artist
would be king?

And Jr. Bush says,
“ah them Cnadians, them guys is our friends”
and then maligns us at every turn
pouring it on thick, with spite seemingly without end
But ok, so let’s say we'll go along
take him at his word
he’s our friend,
but the type of friend
who might arrange
something that entails 
a dinner, date, predator drug
and other unsavory happenings
of which you may have heard?

“Yeah here’s something for those goodie two shoes
those northern holier than thou whiney bloody hicks
we’ll engineer them up a nice new image 
and make sure this one sticks”

“They’ll walk out on desperately needed climate accords
(of course at Our behest)
in sandaled feet
and with a sneer, one of their very best”

“They’ll buy more death
in the shape
of foul machinery
until you’ll hear”
“I thought those Canadians cared
but look how callous they can be!”

We have all kinds of experience with mud up here
the kind that if you have anything, it’ll stick right to it
and being used to it is good for times like these
when someone decides to drag you through it

And it’s ironic 
that the People
we once made squatters 
on their own land

Now watch us 
in peril
of becoming like them
so that we can now no longer 
dismiss them out of hand

"Hey we’ll run high power lines south
and we’ll agree toput them underground 
and will
unless of course when it comes time to do it
a decision to put them up top rolls around
and if when that happens
you need someone to tell
go ahead, shout into the wind
it’s just as well"

Surely we need to do something!
if indeed we’ve got more time
before Harper builds his prisons
and makes honour and integrity
his most derided crimes

What’s been done to our democracy
at his hands 
looks more like a gaping wound 
than a tiny crack

And we’d better take 
a long hard look 
at how far gone we are 
down this wayward track

Or much to our chagrin
we’re bound to find 
That Oh, Canada!
You’ve moved up South
and nothings coming back

About The Author

Malcolm Smith's picture

A Canadian Patriot, Council of Canadians member/contributior and a big fan of both Mel Hurtig and Paul Hellyer's writing.