Where does the time go?

"A Working Class Hero is something to be!"

This is a continuation from something started previously, long, long ago, before there was even memory.  Before there was even dust.  

But now we find ourselves stuck, TRAPPED, in the grip of the system, and we don't know how to break loose.  Evolution, (perhaps intelligently directed?), brought us to this?

Here are the details: we have learned a skill, how to tune the machines to process the data efficiently, but now they, (the rulers? or is it the machines?), think they can ignore us, that their power is sufficient to do all we once helped them do, and more.  

In the grove by the willows, where the gentle breezes blow, forgotten heroes of our past call to us.  Can we hear them over the din of the machines?  Do we want to?

And screeching from the balcony the stupid bird hollers over and over and over, and the stagnant waters, thick with mud and excrement from the hippos, rises faster than we can bail them out.