Policar, 1996
You hide within the skins of others,
Trapped within your glass and steel,
Running far from us, your brothers,
And the life you never feel.
For you, who live your lives alone,
What is there you can call your own?
You who make the air you breathe,
Eat naught but what yourselves produce
Do you never come to seethe
Beneath the yoke you never loose?
For you, who live your lives in fear,
What call is there that you can hear?
You talk of freedom -- senseless prattle!
To we who have the wit to hear,
Your freedom is the life of cattle:
Endless grazing, free from fear.
For you, who live your lives content,
What can you take that's not been sent?
But while you graze content and stunted,
The hunt which you deny goes on.
You do not hunt, but still are hunted,
And will die before the dawn.
For you, who live your lives alone,
Have nothing you can call your own.