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Dark lord

alloy_ Her Master's voice.........

this ego unleashed...

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Grains of Sand
Dark lord
alloy_
We were here at the beginning.
We were the first to have imagination
and we left our drawings in the mountains
now tourists chip at them, to steal
to take home to England.

That was before the black man came
He came with cattle, and stole our woman
and chased us into the desert.
Like in the beginning we tracked and hunted
We stored water in the eggshells of flightless birds

That was before the white man came
He came with guns and stole our woman
and chased us like vermin.
Now he herds us into tents of brick
We try to store water in the eggshells of flightless birds

There is no water.
The borehole is dry
So I look for water my father buried
The spoor of machines runs over this place
The eggshell of the flightless bird is cracked
There are only grains of sand.

(c)2006 Marc Sparks