The Gods Must Be Crazy
They must be crazy,
Crazy spirits indeed,
Who come to men as deity,
Painted and decorated so funny.
They always predict to the extreme,
Or perhaps to the infinity,
And all they want is money,
After they say they give wealth like petals of daisy.
Empty hands opened for honey,
Deserted tongues left so lonely,
Silly jokes protrayed as holy,
Predicted issues left so hazy.
They are gay when they see glory,
Fabricated with a sucess story,
Which they take to capture the liberty,
Of the minds of the citizens.
They must be crazy,
For they even fear the cemetery,
Assisted by the priest or somebody,
The gods must be crazy.
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