How subtle the hint of air
A twist of wind in flagrant fare
Is it I that only sees what you do
While the others argue the turn of you

The main idea still not seen sound
A division of voice still to be found
With the fruit of many who have no idea
An ambrosia by you yet seen with fear

No flavor of ferment only a separate sound
For the voice of One must be argued down
No trust take hold for Universal sway
For each still walks their separate way

Then speak to me now of the childrens concern
For their elders still argue the wrong of today
And for everyday that goes by their children now learn
To walk in the same footsteps that their parents now lay