Nothing is the cost
To utter a word.
But,
If the wrong word is uttered,
At the wrong time,
Great might be the cost
Of that word.

Maybe they feared a revolution
Or maybe it was just chauvinism
But for whatever reason
They would not let his voice be heard
By the suffering masses
Of the decaying metropolis

But his voice was heard somehow
In a land far far away
Where everything was seen in black and white
But the people longed for the rainbow's delight

His haunting voice filled their void
His piercing lyrics became their spear
His aura became their guiding light

Like a miracle unexpected
A revolution occurred
And the rainbow emerged

Meanwhile,
The Sugar Man still drifted unheard
In his grey urban wilderness

It was a day in the village, like any other day
The sun was bright, the ground was baked.
A man came wandering down the dusty way -
His face was wrinkled, his clothes were soiled,
And under the big banyan tree he sat himself.
Seduced by the shade and weighed by fatigue
He fell fast asleep, with his hunger growling.
A farmer passing by felt pity for the man,
And left him a portion of his noon-day bread.

As the farmer dug deep, later on that day,
His barren field would yield a *** of gold!
In delirious disbelief, he took it to his wife.
The word spread like fire: near, far and wide.
A crowd soon gathered to envy and inquire -
“What did you do dear man, to deserve the ***?”
Thinking back to the events that day, he said -
“I gave an old man under the tree my bread.”
“He must be a wandering wizard!” they said.

The man awoke to see the bread, later that day.
Thankful and pleased he began to eat it away.
Soon it was gone, but his hunger still lingered
And it growled in anger  - “give me more bread!”
Just then he saw a mob approaching ominously;
“They'll lynch me, for they think I stole the bread!”
The mob duly arrived, but carrying more bread.
They jostled each other to solicit the old man -
*“Take my bread and give me a *** of gold instead!”