“Of Lanka, and her big Black Star. That our shores may bring us closer, and our hope take us far.”
My neighbours speak French, but you swim with the Indian,
We have the Equator to make us same, yet I stole the Meridian.
You with the tanned and me with the dark,
But what truly lies between a flint and it’s spark?
I stand besieged, but you fly solo,
Corruption is my fear, and poverty is your sorrow
Yes, we have awaited today that we may know tomorrow,
Only yesterday, we were the fuel to an Englishman’s ego.