Who's in control of that little weapon,
That brings men without effort to their knees,
And lays them prostrate for you to step on
And, at your mercy, do with as you please?
What need is there in all of us that delves
Into that place which all our hope devours
But teaches us so much about ourselves,
While squand'ring with such ease these precious hours?
The little lapping waves they come to me,
The stars above shine down on all who know
Allowing those too desperate to see
The things that undrawn curtains cannot show:
That this small weapon is about controls
And subjugation is one of its goals.
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