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History ( Stonehenge Hill )

When all began we were already there

meeting you at birth

and leaving you at death.

You came up to our hill with your eyes

open wide wondering why the sun was

high up in the sky.

Fighting thousands wars, your reasons

still the same ; poverty will always leave

it´s deadly mark of shame.

Selling death from a gold tower,

selling death down the streets,

it doesn´t make a difference

- you´re a killer ...

I saw your face so many times before

as a king , a priest a slave with shining

gold in your hands.

No dignity , no mercy, no values out of

your scale of sheer lucre could satisfy

your ego ...