"I am the king of the castle and you're the dirty rascal"

----The cry of childhood vain desires and losses ring anew

As new drawn lines in dirt of life and bureaucratic hassle

Cause stabbing pain and anger reign ---- joys reducing few

Designed to be so many in God's Earth

Nature's bounty captured by the childish heart grown cold

Compassion set in numbers like a jelly; rigid---- old

Not fit for eating any more---- as if no stone had rolled

Away to release Love into the World---- who made so bold

As to claim adult should be Child in Innocence

Childhood's rotting dreams and games---- attempt to capture life

Simple lines in dust and dirt to capture all high ground

Of human's worldly need---- and set the seed of strife that's rife

To destroy the simple pleasures of a Life there always to be found

Within a World of plenty for us all

Whose are these lines in dirt?---- grown up from blatant seed

Of Presumption and Avarice to capture all the source of Need

Of others who allow the game to grow like some great weed

Restricting Life and Hope in us; tied to breaths through Reed

Poked into Eden's lifeblood?

Oil and sugar, foodstuffs too, captive routes and media blue

Tell the world that lucky few presume the right to all God's might

Of Creativity and Life itself; single channel all the hue

Of lines drawn in the dirt and never mind the hurt, but then the sight

Of Risen Lord might change the role of Servant and of King

The Medium is the Message and Money is the King

POUND and DOLLAR, YEN and MARK conspire to make us sing

"We accept these lines you draw in dust, we do not hear the Ring

We play the Game; we too want fame; to be the same, more joy to bring"----

The Silence speaks the lie, as Love stands tall---- in counteraction of Man's Fall