While the same masters than long before
Sit comfortably numb in their patent leather armchairs
So many crimes have been perpetrated in the name of our own good
We the people, the real people outside, we are starved of our Liberties
And as the sheep file in line to the slaughterhouse
The dream slowly vanished in the night
Is it a farewell, is it a goodbye ?
Only he who dwells on the other side, knows the answers
Photo Hugh Ardoin The Notting Hill 2018 Carnival Gallery