When we kill the youths in the streets of yesterday foolishness
The common man dreams of a great future
From a today wasted in mediocrity
That which would have killed the minorities is now a pandemic amongst the majority
COVID 19 the dread that have shaken the powerful
Where are the nationalist in all this?

Take my hand up the hills into the tree line
In the thin air, I want to stand for a few moments
Stand there atop the turbulent today and peer into the future
The valley yonder is blurred the horizon I see not
From where I come, fools are incessant in their hope for better
The valley covered in cinder and ash of yesterday ravished by greed

Lead me across the river of rights consciousness
I see flash floods of wasted years etched on the dry riverbed
Skeleton like trees lining the bank on the other side
It is all that we have bequeathed our posterity with
Dry morals, dry self-worth: the only- now syndrome
The melody, the dance, and the destruction of fools