Without knowledge to light my way
Without a pen to write my say
And a plate of rice per day
What do I do?
In a place that’s so bewitched
With economical hitch
And robbers are ready to lynch
What do I do?
In a place full of sycophants
Who care not distort the facts
While beggars are like rats
What do I do?
Without a pen to write
And the strength to fight
So that things may be right
What do I do?
« return.