Today is five years old,the devil is dead
Who again would tempt my neighbours to sin?
Now let whatever all men do be on their heads
Good or evil whether,Trueness or treason.


But there's still a priest raising up devil's tomb
Making religion again a cover for his worship
And many sons of scientists yet fashioning bomb
There's still some women not ready to give up gossip


Is this land going to heaven,old and youth?
And We'll walk through a bridge or tarred track
But my friends are spending life in way they choose
They've wallowed too far to turn their necks back.


They tell me to mind too many truths i say,
Because the babies don't know what it means
But I pray they would find peace in some way
You know,we are all same holes in an old jeans.