The
power game
The
blues going out to make news
Let
the people read and know
The
owned newspapers and televisions
The
reporters will have to write
The
newscasters will read the news
The
fight on crimes will not stop
The
government will go all out to eradicate it
The
bad hats must be caged and put in jail
The
police will not compromise
The
bad people must face the law
Years
the crooks harvested gains
They
make on the addicts misery and pain
They
make on the poor people who need aids
Once
they fail to pay the rain of red and knocking doors
The
crooks aren't going to let it go
They
will come for the pound of flesh
Sometimes
it isn't enough to satisfy them
The
police take its own sweet time
Waking
up from its slumber to find the evil grow
Now
the blues going out to make the crooks disappear
In
Bamboo River or exiled to neighbouring countries
The
heat is rising; the crooks aren't feel safe
The
power game
It
sounds of election is coming
The
coalition wants to look impressive
The
launching of race projects
The
mantra has launched
The
writing flourished in prints
But
the jittery in their heads
They
see the waning power
They
will feel afraid
Hearing
the beats
The
Bamboo River sings
“Come
to me
You
painted souls!”
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