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By Anonymous
March 23, 2012
Posted to the web on March 24, 2012 |
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See them die!
They Die!
A rain of blood should cover our world
Stench and decay should be the only thing we sense
But hidden in the dark and erased from our heads
Barbarity and slaughter are everywhere
A contemptible ethic, a relict
Natives are being uprooted from their ancestral lands to make way for foreign-owned large-scale farms. An Anuak elder and leader of a newly resettled tribe is angry his people have no food (Photo: Dallas McNamara)
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For the weakest of the weak
For the lowest of the low
My voice for the voiceless
My fists for the innocent
the innocent
the innocent
Voice of the voiceless
Voice of the voiceless
On the edge of a new age this is still our dogma
For the weakest of the weak
For the lowest of the low
My voice for the voiceless
My fists for the innocent
the innocent
No grave for millions - tortured creatures,
But a common grave for our morals
This slaughter - an ethic I deny
See them die!
They die!
Gambella, I heard You Cry
Ethiopia, I see you blub
An archaic way of thinking, so monstrous and absurd
For the weakest of the weak
For the lowest of the low
My voice for the voiceless
My fists for the blameless
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