Like moles we burrow into our holes, we wear visages of furrow and sorrows, puncture by plague our nature lost to torture, how do we cope with no rope of hope to hold.
pain reigns in our veins to sit and behold our children wail with empty bowels and empty bowls in hands.
Lord reverse the verse of evil that we wrote
If sin has been our profession please accept our confession.
Accept my apology and heal our ecology.
We were suppose to be the president of our resident
But we have lost our eminent to lack of confidence
There’s been no evidence of terse existence, our
gaiety is on the verge of extinction,
I mean to keep this grief brief, but pain been
chief over my self consciousness, this plague has plant
mischief in our planet, please we need your exigency to
heal our world great spirit.
What’s our fate? our pale hope hangs on our incapable
hands, the same hands we once held cocktails,
In festive dance, give us our lives back.
curtail this gory and give us victory great spirit.
Shame the escapades of these woebegone.
heal our lands and let this woes be gone.