Heavy yellow stones and one dark-faced monkey,
I’m sitting down, pretending to be funky.
She looks at me, and scans me up and down,
You’re not my type, cos’ you’re from outta town!
I try, explain, that we are all the same,
We laugh, we cry, no matter whence we came.
She says, no, no, you cannot understand,
I’m sorry, yeah, but cannot be your friend.
And so it goes, united by the wall,
We face the light, that down on us does fall,
I contemplate, and cannot comprehend,
How could it speak, so I can understand.
Halfspoken 