The weather was not favourable,
Nothing was adaptable;
The ground was too hot for any sole
And the blazing air was too hot for any flying soul
Because beasts among men had turned life cold
But he was just a lone cub – bold.
Even in harsh shoes
He grew to become a fine lion
As ghastly years blew honour
Rapidly into the vale of times
And abandoning MAMA
On the bare sands of a greedy and faithless world,
The whole edifice of MAMA’s pride
Was falling to the dirt;
And her dignity struggled
In the quicksands of sordid scorn,
But he fought gallantly and fearlessly.
Lucky fought gallantly
Till death on his usual furtive rounds
Did what he knew best
To break our hearts.