Pisson ma knees and i fumble the keys on ma way home, please
I gotta make myself ease,
Wanna break the law once with / without the guns
President and his sons and the world’s turning over
Like Casanova and his breathing the Brothers are writhing
Baiting and mating they’re masturbating
With our lives, their knives and their lies are grating our lives to pieces
And our worlds are falling — Our dreams are bawling to be
Heard, referred
And the prices are hiking and they’re hiking, hiking,
Fares ain’t fair, anymore and frightening figures and facts
Covered up with tact, tricking the Ol Devil in his devious pact
We’re waling, life’s failing and ailing we move as if the
Nailing’s unheard and in our sinking we groove.
We move — day in day out — we move like bat droppings
Thumping on unheeding grass, and alas, we now face walls
As they speed pass their arse. Open day light, facing walls
Guns aimed at our balls, watching innocent we’re locked
In our gazes, we’re rocked and ridden, it’s forbidden
To question their policies and aims and we are ridden
In the hidden bidden ends of their games,
Dripping being soaked with shit in and out
And whipping our asses being joked about:
Mahinda, brother, hinder my solo,
Come fuck me or simply come share my Rollo.
Tags: Mahinda, oppression, Price hikes, Rollo, Sri Lanka.
