Who are we?
I look up to the moon through the sun
Up those abandoned huts of yesterday
To those mud walls, up and down vales and hills.
...
THE BREWER'S CHOICE
I gazed in awe at your protruding belly
Your creamy shiny emaciated skin, as your yellowish eyes craned in no direction
You slayer of sweating beer.
...
Who Are We?
Who are we?
I look up to the moon through the sun
Up those abandoned huts of yesterday
To those mud walls, up and down vales and hills.
Who are we
I went soul-searching
Even the gods can't locate the souls
The souls that once prowl at their doors with fowl
The very souls that once bow at their bowel
Maybe they are looking for their own souls.
Who are we?
Some say we are the root
The root of the mahogany
That has been chopped off by those sharkles
The shackles that divides the black blood
Who are we?
A stranger on our own soil?
A strange in our own souls?
A stranger in our own minds?
The shackles never work again
So who really who really are we?