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Poverty is back and on track for a fact,
The children are starving, time to change the tact.
Bono is one, who created the pun to pull in the mon,
A concert for sure to feed all the poor.
So Bono my man do you have another plan, 
A concert a day could keep hunger at bay.
However my question, is it just for evasion, 
The worst famine in sixty years would need a little more persuasion. 

Their colourful cloths contrast the hot sand,
Mothers with babies hold out their hand. 
They form a long queue to a receive meagre due,
While most people with food don´t even have a clue.
Why should they starve while fat cat´s sun in the Algarve, 

Their bodies of bone could be crushed by a stone. 
The rebels have weapons and stopping the aid trucks,
These people don´t have oil or precious metals so who gives a f**k. 

Their faces are pure their body´s age prematurely,
What is but a hand full of grain, it´s nothing surely? 
The food arrives, their faces alive with fear,
They rush to the queue, so near yet so far.
So com´on you fat cats don´t buy that luxury car,
Give it to the poor as you know it will go far.

So ladies of rich men give up your next flight,
Give it to the poor so they can sleep at night.
Will the floods and the monsoon, 
Bring more days of gloom. 

As the handful of rice will soon be twice the price,
They stand in long queues for a merge slice.
Their tin cups empty while the rest have a plenty.

 Now the one percent as occupy wall street will vent,
 That the rich must know; as the message is sent,
 That the tax to pay is for all to say,
 Pay your due and shorten the queue.

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