A mighty move, a thousand lives, all packed up and strapped down,
An’ travelin’ through the dead of night, a fleet that shakes the ground.
A cast aside community, lured to a dotted line,
Inspired by immunity, but shackled to a shine.
The refugees - trinkets in tow - are told to turn around,
They kneel and plead, nowhere to go, some fat man owns their ground.
Disease an’ death with drought or mud, an’ shelters made of sand,
Look to the west - and so they should – holdin’ out their empty hands.
An endless plight, an exodus, pays homage to its graves,
Defend an’ fight an’ test their fists - for promises of rain.
A tired child in endless sleep, his stomach storing air,
Is almost wild, is almost free - was almost never there.
A town, a land, a continent - a half a world the same,
Beyond run-down an’ decadent. Beyond the care of blame.
A person, people, faith an’ race – best part of this mankind,
We herd them, keep them out of place - and far from in our minds
Their sin was birth, so Hell is earthed an’ they can call it home,
Unavoidable collateral. Fighting to lick a bone.
Politics. Apocalypse - It’s all the same to them,
With all their kids as thick as twigs, an’ vines that look like men.
Turn off T.V’s. Turn bliss angry - they’ve put you off your meal,
So blank them out - why stand an’ shout? One mind can’t change their deal.
How wrong you are, to think as far. Each penny goes somewhere,
All care’ll count, all aid amounts – high time we learned to share.