Rhymes of the Times: Eve of Destruction

Barry McGuire’s “Eve of Destruction” is a 1960s protest song which voices the problems encountered by many during events like the Red Scare and Vietnam War. The original song covers social and political patterns of the past that some still find relatable today. 

“It is not perfectly aligned with where we are currently, but it is certainly close,” said Farrah Tuttle, a teacher at Central, when asked about her thoughts. “The same things [are] happening again and again throughout history.” She then connected this to the song’s chorus, which stuck out to her with its repetitive nature that she feels mimics historical trends. 

Aleah Frye, a junior at Central, also felt the strong effect of McGuire’s words and described “Eve of Destruction” as a “harsh [and] motivating” message, which boils down to “we’re all the same.” 

This theme spans further than the original circumstances of the 1960s. The following poem works to interweave emotions of the past with struggles of the present.

The Eastern world, it is explodin’

No rights, no rules, they are erodin’

You thought the end was near, in sight?

My dear, the eve of destruction is tonight

A carcass doesn’t matter if you never knew her

The Ukraine is your favorite modern-day slur

Gaza is where the insignificant stir

No other can hold a light to your silencer

Can’t you feel the fears I’m feeling today?

The bright blue sky has gone all grey

The song of choice? A shot in the dark

Does a bomb make a sound when you’re the hierarch?

But no, they don’t matter, the wall is holding strong

No difference here, none that do not belong

For they were sent away, told “move along”

The steps and the sobs are your marching song

Marches alone can’t bring integration

The rules are formed by your illustration

A mother? A wife? A dangerous threat.

She’ll disappear if she cannot fit in your duet

Identity is a scam, our bodies are yours

Where we’re going, there are no cures

You won’t let us live, lest we even the scores

We’re all little pieces in your giant wars

Hate your nest door neighbor, but don’t forget to say grace

You’re meant to be here, they’re all out of place

When he said “love all” he meant those of whiteface

So keep to yourself, to view them is debase

Come many, come all, come the ones that we want

Come any that are not different in font

Come you, but not you. You’re dead and gaunt

Come only if you have the baptisimal haunt