Light seems to dark
When they face Monday
Evoked terror rise to bark
Compelling them to work the day
Slavery becomes a profession
While oceans stand flooded in sweat
Which yields gold but no possession
To heavy their happiness weight
The night soil their minds
With din vibrations of thoughts
Which crave for gold mines
To slain grave faults
When they face Monday
Evoked terror rise to bark
Compelling them to work the day
Slavery becomes a profession
While oceans stand flooded in sweat
Which yields gold but no possession
To heavy their happiness weight
The night soil their minds
With din vibrations of thoughts
Which crave for gold mines
To slain grave faults
But greedy mushrooms
And paint indigenous as strangers
Slaving their mind rooms
While moulding them to beggars.
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