the ants go marching two by two
the little one stops to stare at you
see his unblinking bloodshot eyes?
he's been shooting up since he was five
his girlfriend there, with tired feet
she loves him so, she walks the street
and when men come to lay their claim
she shuts her eyes and dreams of fame
but it's not a perfect world, we cry
and venture to ask: do they even try?
we blind our eyes so it wont be real
we know its there yet we refuse to feel
and ants march by, watched from above
birds and spiders control their love
as you and I climb to the sky
to reach the goals we set so high
the good girls can be butterflies,
and boys can all be bees
and the ants can just keep marching,
underneath the trees
24/03/04
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