Armed

Armed with the thought of being God
I respectfully decline
There wasn't really very much money
And the work was awful hard
But we'll get by
By the skin of our teeth
If we look at my denial
Well now, here we go
We're still on bloody trial

Filled with the scent of lilac gold
And wandering bazaars
Brought with love and simple chores
From hoping lands afar
Sent with characteristic joy
A value that is lost, embossed
While we sit here, they are still
Alivе and teeming
Millions struggling for the right to life
In desеrt homes of drifting sand
Or darkly gleaming light
Out in space, no mouths to feed
Just searching, questing minds, they find
While they're finding, they are coldly kind