|
In the wee hours of the morning |
|
when everything is still |
|
I lay staring at the darkness |
|
trying to find the will |
|
Only to be plagues |
|
by roaches, scorpions and mice |
|
not to mention politics |
|
that's a big cockatrice |
|
The light became morning |
|
the morning became day |
|
speaking for myself |
|
I wish the darkness had stayed |
|
The morning become evening |
|
the sun is going down |
|
but equality and justice |
|
is nowhere to be found |
|
Of all this place |
|
I've had my fill |
|
even in the wee hours of the morning |
|
when everything is still |