the sins spread to its soul

The warlords seem afraid

Draw the lines to make the grade

Drinking up the money well

They think it will work

The decades feeding on it

The people have grown tired

Listening to the familiar story

Of supremacy, race, religion and royalty

This nation isn't for a race

It is made of many colours to shine

The warlords seem to forget

They play the old record all over again

Now they are at it

Draw the lines shift the voters

They can't beat the prophecy

No matter how they want to draw

The party has to fall

Don't they see the elephant in the room?

It is a pity they have growm arrogant

Breeding the clumsy leaders to feed

The downfall has been written

Once the Roman Empire thought it could not fall

Eventually it did with sins eating up its soul

Likewise with Bee Anne the sins have spread