You must be the loneliest person on earth.
And I will hold onto you for all you’re worth,
but I don’t think it will lift the curse.
You, the loneliest soul on earth.
You must have the stranglehold of a billion youth.
The world at your disposal, disposing you.
A voice that goes unheard.
Lonelier than the souls begging for truth.
You must hold up others while the leaders sleep.
Still able to look in the mirror, with graves dug deep.
Sparing a dying breath, the world once at your feet,
now, fading faster than innocence, with no relief.
Petitions and prayers, soldiers watching in far off lands,
Superpowers procure the wallets of the “self-made” man.
Inheriting the gravesites of dollars well spent,
poppy fields that go for miles on end.
Trails of dead, dollar signs where lives began.
You, the loneliest person on earth.