Papua New Guinean Men, when will you arise?
Intoxicated with pride
They never let an opinion glide
Not a simple ifs or buts
for their's is the first and last
They thrive on pride and feed on fear
Consumed and blind,
compassion is no way near.
They beat their chests after they beat their wives
Wielding knifes, they march the ego streak
Dancing to echoes of generational pain.
When they get to drinking
They spend without thinking.
From Beer to Pokies to having couple of darlings
Nothing ever stalls their resolve
Everything is right by them
For theirs is the first and last
But after a while
Their illusion will crumble
Like a house of cards they will tumble
For many are examples gone generations before
Like an old graffiti on the wall, It is only pain to thousand eyes.
Papua New Guinean men
when will you arise?
