The truth is being crushed on the street
The Truth is suffering from neglect
In to shreds, into pieces
But I know within that
Time reassembles the pieces of truth
And it comes basking in beauty
One of the few things that don’t die
Though centuries pass in life
Though buried under a mystical lie
The emergence comes twice higher
It keeps soaring high, up the sky
A virtue that judges all men fairly
Sees the agony of the oppressed clearly
Though being bypassed yearly
Like an ornament so Pearly
Picks the gloomy and makes cheery
Mimi
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