• My hunger always turns into pain,
    My sorrowful life mearly a grain,
    In the devastating sands of time,
    The way it always seems to mime,
    The past which we can't forget,
    Has come back to us and wet,
    Our conscious with the blood,
    Of innocent people lost in the flood,
    That threatens to destroy our nation,
    If we are unable to completely shun,
    The stupid arguments between political parties,
    Instead of solving our problems, so please,
    Let us all be birds-of-a-feather,
    And let us finally decide whether,
    We want to destroy the world we live in,
    Or rise it up from the ashes again.