Old folk once told me

Where to live

What to think

And the value I should wear.

Now young folk think they own me

Tell me what to color

Hues in my mind

Fleeting gods in quiet

Ideas fade to grey.

Rich folk tell me stories

Keep me glued 

To the work

Hammering nails folk branded hope.

And Poor folk follow hungering 

Chasing whistles blowing

From them fantasy trains 

Just dogs barking as

Limited express goes by.

Media folk they write

Share the global blues

Not so happy news

And say they’re not to blame.

The simple folk keep buying

A quarter to a dime

Stories made for them

Geometric shapes

Bias along parallel lines.

Legal folk make rules

Protecting us they say –

Them, I think is true

Their truth in suits reveal.

WEIRD country folk whistle

Daisies in the wind

Petals drifting aimless

To blue sky dreaming

Clouds with silver linings.

Folk like me are folks

Toys for them folks

The folks that think

They are the only Folks.

Old folks keep on coloring

Poor folk keep on chasing

Simple folk to listening

And WEIRD folk to consuming

Dreams by Folks that made them…


Folks keep dreaming.

Folks keep living.

Folks keep drifting.

Folks keep chasing.


Lyrics by Maru-chan

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