I tell you Shell
You can’t shell the dream
Of a people whose life typifies
perpetual struggle
A people who’ve passed through the mill
Is to my mind used to any trouble.
I tell you Shell
You can’t shell their dream.
Albeit you may’ve used your might and main
To cause them unmitigated pain and even restrain
Them from pressing serious charges against you
But:
You sure can’t shell their dream
‘Cause theirs is borne of God
‘Tis what He Himself has foreordained.
And there’s no amount of corrosive force
That can make them concede victory
To someone as fiendish as you.
Indeed:
They may not have the war arsenal
To stand up in defence against you
But ‘tis sure as hell
That they won’t take all your smelly shit
Lying down!
Yet again
‘Tis true that with all your tomfoolery and treachery
You succeeded all too well
In desecrating their only one and precious oily-holy land
Almost causing their total annihilation
Bringing upon their land
A complete destruction and despoliation;
To bemoan their sad fate
In fact, there couldn’t be a worse fate!
And you’ve and still is
Doing the best you can
At milking away their oily breast;
This you do with much vigour and zest.
But:
Refusing to pay your best price.
I ask you: Is that wise?
Can’t you remember as they say,
“That to whom much is given much is expected?”
You can’t feign ignorance to such good reason
Yet you keep refusing to play ball.
Now what foolhardiness, what wickedness!
You can’t give a child a good hiding
And yet prevent him from crying.
But:
I tell you this:
You’re up against a people
Completely and absolutely resolute.
I tell you:
A people with unprecedented animal boldness.
‘Twill take you a whole life time
To completely quieting their flaring spirits
You all can never ever
Shell their aged-long dream
And that’s a fait accompli!
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