He saw everything changing, things slipping away.
Was this how it was going to be, he wondered.
Nothing would be the same, regardless of his desire,
but strangely, this did not annoy him as much as
the superficial chatter of his table companions.
Across the room, several party-goers were gathered
around the piano player as he honored their requests
for the good old songs, with their familiar lyrics.
They all sang along, mostly off key, seemingly oblivious
to the angry mob running through the streets down below.
It slowly dawned on him that he had been here before,
and even though the times were different, and the costumes,
there was an eerie recognition, a deja vu, and this intrigued him.
As he sipped his drink, he realized that he was no longer
in New York, but in Germany — everyone was speaking German,
toasting the new Reich, and Germany was going to be great again!
He blinked his eyes, and now he was in France, and everyone
was celebrating the revolution, while the guillotine outside
was systematically separating the royalty from their heads.
He shook his head, and now he was back in America.
The people had voted, yet even with the party atmosphere,
he recognized a troubling apprehension in everyone’s eyes
just behind their thin facades, and now he knew why.
Everything changes, but everything remains the same.