On Compassion And Blue Skies Poem by Madrason .

And as the grey live day by day
and find their way to butcher and bakery
the fields are golden of wheat and corn
and yonder where the khaki runs worn
thorn in to these karmozine fields
the Christal earth below the pupyseas
the farmer draggeth down the clay
the golem taking on a bodily form
seems to colonise the earth and by surprise
like dead souls taken on into a skin
the sin of this complete insanity
complicity thorn in to a machinery
embossed with pneuma from demigods
one can not find the steadfast feet
one can not wonder but just heed
and fear will saw Monsantoseeds
and the whole earth is thorn from weeds
no tumbling and no more bearclaws
but alas no clover four for sure
ninetyeighty and whatever more
ingratitude is knocking at your door
so fill the form and fit the score
the seasons have no grip on lost souls
the fools on the hill pay the bill
and they are miners all for black gold
and surely do as they are told
and God felt sorry for mankind
he turned a blind eye hoped to find
a road ahead, called Nuevo Humanity
and as he cried the sky went blue
with still stuck in his swollen throat
al little bit of hope for me and You,
and God felt sorry for mankind
he turned a blind eye hoped to find
a road ahead, called Nuevo Humanity
and as he cried the sky went blue
with still stuck in his swollen throat
al little bit of hope for me and You! !