Carry on, Friend, with your affairs fearlessly here, God’s far away from sight, you’ve autonomy here.
Who is bothered when the conscience grows quiescent?
There’s no constraint other than conscience here.
People wouldn’t believe in your cries howsoever loud,
Until you bellow on a loudspeaker, none will hark here.
The propagandists peddle their strategic points of view,
The chorus of the majority is the one-and-only truth here.
I am befuddled between the left and the right, Walking the middle-of-the-road is lonely here.