The chic halls of a Sheikh
Who shakes at a storm outside the gate
His mind at ease with foreign investment
Oil on the stake with fundamentalism
He sees remote control planes
Fly into remote control towers
Sees autocracy contract
When bigger remote control powers
Storm into the palace
To demand answers and elections
Before wounding the children
Speaking out against freedom
And so the chic halls
Begin to look like a time capsule
When arms dealers flowed in and out
In exchange for black fuel
Yet, he clings onto his relic tighter
Like a child afraid to let go of its Mother
To face the final musical hook
To become a footnote
In an ancient history book


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