Death is dealt by the hand of some,
The richest man, the poorest bum,
God only knows where it comes from,
And can you believe all of what you see?
The child is without a meal,
Another simply cannot feel,
And one has no clue what is real,
Will they ever truly become free?
When we began and walked with love,
Our focus only on above,
We named the tiger and the dove,
And then we ate our fill below the tree.
