They
make fear
They
make the division
They
come out with silly statements
Of
their own myopic dillusions
Everyday
they see shadows
Crowding
their minds
Giving
them too much headaches
Of
nothing but imaginary threats
They
sing of their faith
They
cry of losing power and game
When
they have it all
They
still say they are beggars
It
is one particular Malay group
Crying
out loud of losing the game
The
farm out boys will play on stage
Bashing
other faiths thumbing arrogance of no grace
The
fall of an empire
The
signs are everywhere to see
The
crumbling walls are falling apart
It
needs a pen to cross it out
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