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Hands in pockets...
Hands in pockets….
What of this state that we call death,
this coming of time you and I must
face it’s clear. We watch as others
young and old perish but could be
saved, my shame outweighs my fear
Why can’t we have a blind eye or turn
the other cheek, say, it’s only another
drought driven starving, no need for
us to speak.
Where are their leaders we cry slinking
away to the back of the crowd, it’s their
responsibility, we’ve done enough, and
my new X box is playing up for crying
out loud.