I will be gone before long
And this was my kind of song
What will happen to my offspring
What kind of world will their children bring
One of truth
One of justice
One of hope
It's so uncouth
It's so unjust
It's always nope
In this day
And I am getting cynical
That the man on the pinnacle
Doesn't seem to see
We are drowning in a sea
Of self made government
Storms of poverty
Too weak to swim at their whim
Almost dying
I'm not lying.
