Ant's blog

Friday, March 24, 2006

We want our money back

No noise to be heard
Save the birds

No images here nor idols
We stand alone without sound
And watch the sun go down

We want our money back
There is no place
For this black-ness
In our world
No room for this calm
In our life
We want to see the manager
And demand compensation
Or else an end to this ending

Start the drum
Feed our eyes and ears
With manna
In byte size portions

Winds enter our minds
Blown across the seas
From men and women and beasts
A wind of understanding and compassion

We want our money back
There is no place
For this black-ness
In our world
No room for this calm
In our life
We want to see the manager
And demand compensation
Or else an end to this ending