Mother, looks like nothing’s gonna change!
Everything’s gonna remain just the same!
I sit hopelessly atop a mountain
seeing a rabid civilisation eat up my vegetation!
Where stands creation in this thankless gobbledegook?
I never got the praise reserved for a magnificent chef or cook!
I was just salivated at by crooks!
I hear the song playing: `Let it be!’
Did I ever hear you tell me that, Mother?
I take example from how you served even those you knew
were using you and abusing you. I am not looking to the bay,
No, I don’t think I’m going that way!
Even though often I think of packing and leaving,
for, every time I think I am nearing a resolution,
there is just a new juxtaposition of treason!
I see all my armies turn from tall to small
with treachery having them standing against the wall
or taking up their space with body grabbing in their face!
Should I conclude with haste, Mother, that the righteous have no chance
And like you, just do my duty in this merry hostile rancorous dance
I don’t want to devolve from one evil to the other
So, I will striptease to neither; not that I want to walk away!
But when can I hear the tune change from `Let it be’ to `Believe’, Mother?
Do you see how antiquated I am, and I am still growing older?
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