SONG OF THE PEOPLE

Each morning after Sunblast
Feel the rhythm of junta dogmatism
I waited by the headquarters
In time for benediction
Living a law just short of delusion
When we fall in love there's confusion
This must be the place I waited years to leave


To our voices nobody's listening
To our tears nobody’s seeing
We shiver in the rain by the touchline
We are left spell bound by the axis of junta
Searching for a ride to graveyard
Then a coach ride to the station
"My lord, the carriage awaiteth!"
Living a law just short of delusion
When we fall in love there's confusion
This must be the place I waited years to leave
This must be the place I waited years to leave
And how
How long?

I am seeing the things to see them never again
The swarm of loaded men squeezing the den of the local men
Killing the woodland men, on the orders of alien men
The fear of hetman ◌

I don’t want to belong

I am listening to the words I thought I would never hear again
A litany of saints and other men in uniform
Unfurling every nook of their beard to keep the uniform in place
They are, they are the slaves of a man
Kneeling on the red parquet
Whatever has gone wrong?
The fear and feeling hopelessness
I don't want to belong

With a peep of nostalgia
I can see a general, waiting outside “Senorita Home” ◌
Giving an outstanding example to the next generation
I don’t want to belong

With a system of district rule
Giving every devil a chance to rule
Devolution & demolition giving the right
For every street dog to rule


I dreamt I was back in uniform
And a candidate for examination
History, someone had blundered
Sordid and squalid rule must remain plundered
And a voice rapped "knuckle under!"
Living a law just short of delusion
When we fall in love there's confusion
This must be the place I waited years to leave
This must be the place I waited years to leave
And how
And how
How long?

◌ COURTESY: HAMOOD-UR-REHMAN COMMISION REPORT ON THE FALL OF DECCA
◌ MILITARY. ETI: POLISH