the true republic lies beneath the sea
a single bound will take you straightway there
it's our first homeland where we were born free

look where the master will not let you see
far past the fictive kingdoms of the air
the true republic lies beneath the sea

no effort's needed for each one to flee
just leave right now and be at ease from care
it's our first homeland where we were born free

where we learnt justice at our mother's knee
return' so easy we just have to dare
the true republic lies beneath the sea

not far at all we note the mango tree
the purple bloom the old man on his chair
it's our first homeland where we were born free

the place of order where we long to be
and it is simple to end the affair
the true republic lies beneath the sea
it's our first homeland where we were born free

the seeking eye that even seems to speak
of urgent matters at an early time
is the best weapon wielded by the weak

not in the option given to the meek
to keep heads lowered as the sweet bells chime
the seeking eye that even seems to speak

looks through a wall apparently unique
but hidden in its recesses and grime
is the best weapon wielded by the weak

a simple tool not modern nor antique
whose users have come under in their prime
the seeking eye that even seems to speak

and not been frighted they are past critique
able to know just where in the long climb
is the best weapon wielded by the weak

those who are able find they are to peek
in hidden places for the true sublime
the seeking eye that even seems to speak
is the best weapon wielded by the weak

a missionary aching to be done
with all the trappings of the muddy past
shed the sad history as a worm its cast
be new and happy in the springtime sun
we know who has this and there is not one
secure or guarded from the sullen blast
of deep-felt hatred striking at the last
signs of old story shouting out they've won
there are some means of easing the old ire
of turning rage back into wholesome ways
of decent living yet we watch each fail
as all our truths are cast into the fire
just so a new world can face different days
and there can be a better kind of tale

no one this day shall say they stood aloof
when the new rose first came into fresh flower
and none dared crush the bloom beneath a hoof

we would have faced a certain harsh reproof
no long before but all changed in an hour
no one this day shall say they stood aloof

nor that the entire fabric warp and woof
had stayed the same new blossom in each bower
and none dared crush the bloom beneath a hoof

for fear of learning just how great the goof
would harm the doer dread would them devour
no one this day shall say they stood aloof

the acts are real we see that there's no spoof
of change or meaning the old world we scour
and none dared crush the bloom beneath a hoof

today we saw the crowds from every roof
acclaim as honour took the seat of power
no one this day shall say they stood aloof
and none dared crush the bloom beneath a hoof

there are no answers but the simple fact
that we have asked will make some things more clear
even to those for whom the worlds appear
as cheap illusions or as the abstract
daubings of visions that might not attract
the subtler gaze here in this colder air
what we must ask is that the wise compare
the truths of things and then that they just act
not all who reach this place have learnt to look
at the right angles where they might discern
those matters not for ordinary sight
yet what we find in not so secret book
for those who have the time truly to learn
is that there is each day for all some light

in this stark universe no secrets left
for hawk-eyed seekers that's what we must know
to keep our minds still centred on the flow

of bodies moving with uncertain heft
from truth to fact like water from the snow
in this stark universe no secrets left

so what we find is that some sort of theft
has changed the weight of matters it is so
uncertain now and we are trapped below
in this stark universe no secrets left

resounding horns in deep glittering cave
not music now nor urgent call of hunt
a message that is both banal and blunt
containing nothing that we need or crave
yet full of meaning those who are so brave
may striking upward swiftly to confront
the enemy who blasts may hear them grunt
with sudden shock of nothing left to save
our hope is not in music nor in joy
of victory hard won by those who fought
without the expectation of reward
we seek instead the means to best employ
the tools of wisdom and the ways of thought
to bring about best means of good accord