To Go In Due Time
So the world without borders was a foolish idea
Poor authorities suffered from disrespect
Our sovereignty we have violated, my dear
Without taking notice we did that
The military industrial complex
Is being revived to standing ovation
Hard times have come, and it’ll be worse
Good job we’re free from further frustration
What a blessed fate, love, to go in due time
Free from their peasant nationalisms
From inane competitions, controlled decline
From taxation of the air we breathe
Back to the garden, as it has been sung
Back to our room with vase on the table
We’re remembered by trees, as forever young
Resting in peace within our fable.
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