This nation is strange,

Possibly because it refuses to change,

That it's still arranged by those estrange,

The idea of an exchange for different and derange is an outrage.

This nation is strange,

Maybe because the cries of a strange fruit that hasn't fallen,

That the juice became bitter due to the pollen,

That the body has become too rotten,

And the brain has all but forgotten.

This nation is strange,

Could it be the democracy?

Proven twice to be hypocrisy,

Or is it the people that has become accustom to dishonesty,  

Is this the new normality?

This nation is strange,

Like the plague,

We've begged for the cure,

Yet, we are no longer pure,

Therefore, we've ensured that no man can mature.

And that is something death cannot endure.

This nation is strange.

Stranger then the hate that brought about our fates.

Even stranger then the bullets that put the heart under measurable weights,

And the government celebrates,

Illustrates that those who operate have different taste,

This nation is strange,

The blood has been soiled with our own stains,

And that can never change.

So, who can we blame?

No one will name,

Because we refuse to open the window frame,

This nation is strange.

Will it ever change?