There is no game of power
Inbetween pawns
From here only what's leftover
Until on one the truth dawns

Living in the small world
One would learn to look away
From words uttered and faces whirled
Smiling because they know the way

And somewhere deep inside
Seems like somebody hid the key
We were born the day freedom died
Stumbled our way out of the sea

Whatever ever it may not be long
Before I dabble in psychiatry
I'd urge you not to come along
Disease has its own poetry