Who blows freedom to the light? And the mystic twilight play with the night Blow some to those disdained soul; Let the moon-light take over their plight. Why is it that few always stroll? In the darkness of their soul; Where few scornful mourners remain bold?
I knew the man who grew medicinal plants; He perished… He could not buy the pills; He had to attend to more important bills.
I knew the hunger in the street; I have walked those path bare feet, And when vegetation turns to concrete; Who should worry for the feed?
Who passed the bill of calamity? We are animals in this city; Caged in our modern hutments, Avoiding sunshine and killing the rains.
You won’t know me today; Tomorrow I am everywhere, Home delivery to distant and near; I sell oxygen in the kiosk, nearby; Dial or mail me when you want to breathe high,
I sell blood and other parts; Frozen sperm for that designer birth; Organic is the delineation of yesterday’s food, A rare species for the regular cook?!
I sell virginity and love pills, The sellers of humanity are long killed; Love is an undercover business, Sorrows adimpleated freely and you hunt for happiness.