A Cue From Ancients of Days

Look up to the sky take a look at the boldness of the sun behold the brightness of the stars they hold no grudges they come, they shine for you, for me: caucasian, black or orientals Look up at the sky See the beauty of the moon it illuminates prison as well palace they no know boundary nor landmark hear the rhytm of the rains it beats the ghetto and the golden city see its water flows linking the mosques and the churches they hold no sentiments nor bias then look at yourself and I myself and together ourselves and take a cue from the ancients of days.