I live in a country with no bombs or gun
and my little sister died
living here is no fun
I recall that day I cried

Why do they spend on hate?
when I can’t even be greedy
watching my sister die was too late
god is supposed to help the needy

Why do you all live so well?
when we all starve to death
could someone for my sister tell
her why she’s never heard of Macbeth

Come and feed me cause my belly swells
not for cars or luxury or bombs to kill
yes a grown man cries why he tells
shame is coming to my window sill

As I stare at our futures vandalism
and old ladies being killed for use
use of the need to fulfil their greed
whilst my sister dies from the western abuse

Grant me one wish
feed not forget
whilst you watch me on ur satellite dish
cause this soul’s not dead yet