Throw on your sackcloth
Mark your face with ashes
Pipe up the band for the funeral dirge
Our democracy is in her death throes
She’s closed tight the shutters
Barred the door
And doused the fire
For her eyes desire darkness
She does not go silently into the night
Her lips are painted with death
Her tongue laced with poison
And her screams drown out the cries of the innocent at her door
Dear democracy save yourself
In your own callous hands is the cure
If only you would lift it to your lips
But our beloved will not take her medicine
Mighty Anchor 