Rain falls down on the dry of green,
Rainfalls shouldn’t be so serene,
Pain falls down on the moon too soon
Blame falls on crowns with gloom.

Foggy mists prevail in the unseen battle
Thus making us children with a rattle
Trying to see what cannot be seen,
Listening to ourselves being mean.

Teaching things we do not do,
Learning things we do not follow,
Building houses with bricks so hollow,
Leads us to nothing new.