I sat down and I studied
The land the dragon muddied
With his harsh fire breath
The land still burns from it yet
And I look out 
Over the Sahara
Arid and dry
And Connemara
Springs to mind
A place where people were sent to grow
Things that couldn't sustain them, you know
And it's not about assigning blame
Though I hold a particular name
In mind
When I think of out west
But that this may be my test
To speak out while I have breath
And say something no one can forget
About the souls that go hungry 
While we all bask in the money
Of the machine
And Dr. King had a dream
Well, so do I
That no child may have to die
From want of bread or milk 
As the socialites in luxurious silk 
Starve themselves half to death
Is nonchalance all we can expect
From modern western culture
But I feel that the vulture 
That feeds on empty flesh
Is no more than part of the regret
Of those that have come to be
Dying in front of you and me