The hoarders help Hitler, when they grumble, groan and mutter
And say they are cheated, when they can’t get
sugar, coffee and butter.
They carry home great sacks full of foods
and juices in cans
Get irate at the grocer and baker, when not able
to get all demands.
Patriotic? A, yes, the American flag is on
the windshields of all their cars
Yet they drive these cars to haul home their ill-gotten jars.
Just hear the clamor and roar, when they speak about meat
I wonder, were they in Europe, how much
could they get to eat?
They bootleg on gasoline, rubber and tires
Who says they are scarce are big liars.
And now, when they have to plod along
on their poor shoeless feet
They are yelling so loudly, that it’s giving the dictators a treat.
That there is a war on, they don’t seem to be aware
And what’s more, are too selfish
and greedy to care.
Business and leisure must go on in the same usual way.
Hungry, shoeless, unarmed soldiers will save them
while they idle and play.
So why should they do without what they want,
or try anything to save?
What care they for mothers who weep, and think
of sons asleep in a foreign grave.
Note: There is little doubt as to how Grandma felt about rationing (or not).
These are copyright 1996 and reprinted with permission.