tw : violence, indian politics
Arguing over who's blood is green and who's blood is saffron ignoring that everyone's blood is red. Continuing feuds from eras bygone and bygone until everyone is dead.
The guise of news they lie beneath, letting their sponsors kill, lie, deceit, repeat.
Ignoring the plights of the common man, they stand tall proclaiming about the powers that lie beyond. While fertile land turns to sand, And a crop as colorful as a crayon sits still as if it was in a seance.
A hallowed guise they lie beneath, while they kill, lie, deceit, repeat.
These actions ever ignored as a mother lies frightened, the three branches no longer forming a functional trident, the prongs sharper than ever, the handle increasingly self-divided , The mother unable to cry as her eyes lie blinded.
The guise of people they lie beneath, while they kill, lie, deceit, repeat.
Their veins filled with gold since the days of old, As wrongs get sold, rights remain on hold, and they wave white on a rufescent flag pole, pretending to keep the country whole.
The guise of peace they lie beneath, while they kill, lie, deceit, repeat.
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