"The Cycle" - (SOURCE)
Put Down Your Guns
Put down your guns, oh brothers, my friends,
The cycle of bloodshed, it must reach an end.
In the islands of blue where the sun’s golden light,
Has been swallowed by shadows that steal away night.
From Nassau’s streets to the shores of Freeport,
Cries echo in alleys where lives come up short.
The mothers are weeping, their hearts full of pain,
As bullets like rain drown their hopes once again.
Oh, how did we come to this crossroad of fear?
Where peace is a stranger, and violence draws near.
In a land once so tranquil, where the waves kissed the shore,
Now the gunfire replaces the soft ocean’s roar.
