Traitors sold I, and rumors say the tribe too
As the whisperers murmured about the concrete zoo
Those architects broke us to make thus
Room for the culture without the roots
And so now I'm lost at meeting of my routes
Deracinated I've gone from green to brown
Assimilated I've seen the scene of the crown
Foolish I slave for the pleasures of them
But soon we'll rise from mayhem
When we unlock our minds
And go forward because time rewinds.