I stare at the populous in prayer, I look at ‘em talking to the air
I sing for ‘em, they don’t seem to hear, I cry for ‘em

Are they in outer space on a populous parade?
Are they in some kind of race that I do not have the legs for?
I’m not one to kill joy, but I’m just digging pro-choice
Let the [bad word]  am I wrong?

I saw my mama’s inheritance, stone wall unilateral descent
Vultures and a piggy in a pen, I cry for ‘em

Are they all out of touch? Are they touching it too much?
Are they on some kind of [bad word] that I haven’t done enough of?
I’m not one to judge, I just like to make fun of
Everybody and their dog, am I wrong?

I cry for ‘em, I try for ‘em, speak my mind for ‘em, at the cry [bad word] 

Are they all out of turn? Are they ever going to learn
About the fires that might burn, about the feelings that might hurt me?
I’m not one to turn green, but I think I feel envy for the stony ones

“Als allen om U heen zich reeds verloren achten
en gij alleen de kop nog boven water houdt,
als gij van niemand meer vertrouwen moogt verwachten
en enkel op Uzelf als op een rotssteen bouwt,
als gij geduldig zijt en spoed en nijd [bad word] laten,
Als gij belogen wordt en U niet liegend wreekt,
als gij de haat aanvaardt, dit zonder zelf te haten,
U niet op wijsheid roemt, noch van uw deugden spreekt”
 [bad word] Kipling]