The new oil with no land
Cloth with honey wrapped in chains
To harness the air we breathe in and out
While we sleep on the table of second mental slave pot
The new land with no tangible oil
Develops rapidly in the pace of many discoveries
And the world of nations are built with supremacy values
Fighting for the control of modern invisible veins
Running the flow of imperialist bloodless war
On the hill of fortune
Lies the potency of disruption
Smiling at those who give up the terminal pains
That blocks the flow of water
Easing the pendulum of unstable penetrations
In the valley of shadows
Lies those who chase clout
Ranging from the darkness of souls
To the destination of hopeless toil
That characterizes the insanity of man
On the hill of misfortune
Lies the wailing of uniformity
That cut across moments of awakening
From the slumbering of many shekels
Entrapping the truth of justice
Waiting to explode the world of injustice
On the hill
Lies the conformity of slavery
Neatly wrapped in the loaves of bread
To entice those who love the season
Out of there moments of momentary mad-joy