The Short Pant Massacres

in your time you fought for our rights
now we're fighting amongst ourselves
life has taught our children well
love, brotherhood and gujarat's hell

hey mahatma, can you hear me
turning in your grave, a solumn sigh
men in short pants cleaned up your children
living in times of programmed minds

the light you shown on all has still not reached
the drill masters and their brain washed army
if, in time, they'll see our plight
ne'er represent my brother's rights