And then it began
Rather brazen, I guess
The song of the woods
The raga of the hills
The fragrance of the earth
The beauty of its frills
But do you not see the rot within
The purity of the seraphim
And since when did words take sides
And rip apart the world too wide
Who cares to sing for a slum
The clouds as such take the “glum”
Verses being the sign of the times
The “blood of our own” is down in the lines
It’s always been “love this, love that”
Let’s have ballads and sonnets for a sewer rat
So is that all what’s left of us
No more words to waste on the fuss