There's a line in the sand
drawn in dark distant lands,
where the guts and the glory
and fine marching bands,
will all die in the dust
and play into their hands.
And invisible walls
across seas, oh so wide,
are not worth all the tears
and the fears that they hide.
So the captains and sailors
should close the divide.

They should all cry, "NO!"
Then the skies overhead
scarred with lines of deceit,
like the cracks in the path
beneath cold marching feet.
Let the soldiers and victims
stand tall, in the streets.
So the bullets and bombs
from our very own guns,
never fall on the graves
of our fathers and sons.
Let us all walk together
to where it began,

and we'll all cry, "NO!"
All the fortunes and futures
within corrupt hands,
as they roll out the dice
and decide and demand,
that the power and glory
is theirs to command.
For the dark and the deep fear
of what is unknown,
is the harvest we reap
from the seeds they have sown,
for they govern our lives
more than anyone knows,

until we all cry, "NO!"
Will our children be raised
in a world of elites,
where they search through the rubble
for something to eat.
Will we then bow our heads
in dejected defeat?
Will we cower and hide
from the one's who impart,
all the laws and the lies
that leave lives torn apart,
or will we all stand as one
and raise hell with our hearts?
So the pimps and the whores
in their halls upon high,
with their airs and their graces
will start with surprise
as they look upon unity
in all they despise,

when we all scream, NO!

Just a short, simple word,
with such power to wield,
but it leaves no more doubt
about how we all feel.
We must rise up united
in townships and fields

and just simply say...

Written by Darren Scanlon, 14th October 2015.
Revised 29th May 2023.
©2016 Darren Scanlon. All rights reserved.

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