So many children have learned
What the rules of growing old are concerned with
Respectability founded in self-doubt
Young dreams driven out
So many children without any words
Driven to tears unheard
Cry themselves to sleep at night
Losing their will before the coming light

The line keeps on growing
An end shows no sign
All stand here without even knowing
Where the queue seems to be going
Falling into line
Just another mind-wasting design

"The Chosen" in control maintain
A cultured air of disdain
We should not be "overly concerned"
Nor too quick to share what we've earned
Those stalwarts of the rich
Believe in their right to quibble and bitch
Beds waiting for eager lovers
Deaf and dumb to their suffering brothers

Too few children survive
To keep the rest of us alive
None could hope to thrive
Just line them up to take a dive
When they do fall into line
We've lost a little more time

[November 1997 ~ June 1998]