Is there any hope, is there any light
Is there any rope to quickly end this night
Thick like crude are the sins of our past
Now crude is the feud that fuels our future
Honestly, honesty took a hiatus
Turning a blind eye to all the atrocities
All the suffering of the poor in our so called rich cities.
Littered with traces of hope that have been exploited
By these so called leaders, high in social standing
But lowly as bottom feeders in nature’s ranking
Our leaders have become fiddlers to the music of vice
Now this music has become the heartbeat of a sea of men
Who were once regarded as pacific good men
Eventually inertia has taken its course
Now many have accepted this curse
As history looks set again to repeat itself
No scope or hope for change, just a recycle of old bicycles
That have ridden and been ridden dishonestly.
Now, they are grasp for power on their last ride
While we persist, dreaming about a change that has now died.
A change that was never really alive.
Hope that was once the sweetener
Has now turned sour like vinegar
We never seem to learn despite experiences that are first hand and hard
This is the vicious cycle of life for the children of the Motherland