Alive like the blood, Compelling as the rose.
It is all a simple rhythm to move along,
Maybe dance a little and colour the song,
It is the human nature to be adamant with prejudice,
Not for us, our senses can go beyond to empathise.
Peace is our stance while we listen,
And we expect the same from our whistle,
We may be horrid with the horns,
But often, humour can help you heal the wounds.
We are short-lived in anger and concern,
But the aesthetics shall remain and the future shall learn,
How trivial images can shape revolution for them all.
We hold the throne of lands on our head,
The passion that rules, hidden under the crest.