To the Children of the Storm
The sound of house music tries to sneer everyone through the ears,
And the scent of cocktails mixed with the fumes of cigarettes in the air
The neon lights trying to compliment earlier darkness
For it was almost midnight and the party tries to appease the rage
The noises outside were those of sports cars
Engines churning if not those of their horns blaring
So much for these petit bourgeois has afforded to make these happen:
A world decadent that soon aggravates problems the old once spoken
This person has sought these once, felt its weirdness than I
For he preferring the mocha frappe if not chilled beer at night
Seeing all the books, if not hearing some reminiscences
Of friends longed for meetups as tired in social media sites
Time is running fast, as the repressed has trying to break their chains
Clamouring, shouting various demands the Bourgeois trying to act deaf
Demanding the impossible as they pushed truncheons and resisting water
Fired from the water cannons at the back of riot policemen
And yet countered by shouts and waving of flags
All red as colour of working class blood
Still greatly flying in the street battle last night.
But the system with its running dogs wanting to turn the battle into a massacre
Wanting to see a killing spree, rivers of blood from every street
Tear Gas turned to live bullets, chants turning screams
Yet the bourgeoisie disregards the noises as EDM music continues as it seems
Prevailing in the dancehalls in its discotheque fantasies
Of Liquor and Champagne, of Cigarette smokes
Trying to counter yesterday's stress and escaping fear
Such as the sound outside their comfort zones.
And as they go home from their parties and see the society in its entirely mess
Will these knock their apathetic hearts and intentionally unaware minds
As they've been fed by illusions time after time
As they escape in pursuit of comforts
Including those who toyed with politics with words like "social action"
And poverty with those of "Charity" if not "Redemption"
Through their so-called "Corporate Social Responsibility"?
Damn! Not all Bourgeois would cry for the millions in poverty
Nor having mercy to those who are being beaten after a long march against impunity
As these destitutes and shirtless sing a part from the Internationale:
"No saviour from on high delivers,
No faith have we in prince or peer.
Our own right hand the chains must shiver,
Chains of hatred, greed and fear.
E'er the thieves will out with their booty,
And to all give a happier lot.
Each at his forge must do their duty,
And we'll strike the iron while it's hot."
Only few of them would have their eyes and minds open
Trying to remold with the book and record what they've gathered with scrap paper and pen
Enough to replace petty thoughts and fantasies with actually existing realities
And a desire to end the old order with new
Maybe with the empty beer or liquor bottles they are willing to fill them with oil and wick
Trying to continue the almost stopped conflict with the rage on their behalf:
"Hinein in die Betriebe!" To the Factories!
"Hinein die Landschaft!" To the Counntryside!
Singing a part of the Internationale as they counter the system and its own class's wrath:
"Arise, ye prisoners of starvation!
Arise, ye wretched of the earth!
For justice thunders condemnation:
A better world's in birth!
No more tradition's chains shall bind us;
Arise, ye slaves, no more in thrall!
The earth shall rise on new foundations:
We have been nought, we shall be all!"
Of Liquor and Champagne, of Cigarette smokes
Trying to counter yesterday's stress and escaping fear
Such as the sound outside their comfort zones.
And as they go home from their parties and see the society in its entirely mess
Will these knock their apathetic hearts and intentionally unaware minds
As they've been fed by illusions time after time
As they escape in pursuit of comforts
Including those who toyed with politics with words like "social action"
And poverty with those of "Charity" if not "Redemption"
Through their so-called "Corporate Social Responsibility"?
Damn! Not all Bourgeois would cry for the millions in poverty
Nor having mercy to those who are being beaten after a long march against impunity
As these destitutes and shirtless sing a part from the Internationale:
"No saviour from on high delivers,
No faith have we in prince or peer.
Our own right hand the chains must shiver,
Chains of hatred, greed and fear.
E'er the thieves will out with their booty,
And to all give a happier lot.
Each at his forge must do their duty,
And we'll strike the iron while it's hot."
Only few of them would have their eyes and minds open
Trying to remold with the book and record what they've gathered with scrap paper and pen
Enough to replace petty thoughts and fantasies with actually existing realities
And a desire to end the old order with new
Maybe with the empty beer or liquor bottles they are willing to fill them with oil and wick
Trying to continue the almost stopped conflict with the rage on their behalf:
"Hinein in die Betriebe!" To the Factories!
"Hinein die Landschaft!" To the Counntryside!
Singing a part of the Internationale as they counter the system and its own class's wrath:
"Arise, ye prisoners of starvation!
Arise, ye wretched of the earth!
For justice thunders condemnation:
A better world's in birth!
No more tradition's chains shall bind us;
Arise, ye slaves, no more in thrall!
The earth shall rise on new foundations:
We have been nought, we shall be all!"
To the Children of the Storm.