In the bottom of my cup of tea

I see the secret to world peace.

I see some sticky residue

To hold it all in place like glue.

If our hands all stuck together

Would we be birds of a feather?

Imagine everyone having fun

Because with years of being stuck

They learn to live with one another

Among their sisters and their brothers.

If we gave friendship a chance

Perhaps as one we could all dance

And sing and live and love in peace

But instead we slaughter each other like animals, ignoring the unfortunate and giving praise to the cruel, turning away from progress as we hide from positive change because we are too frightened to stray away from our precious obsolete tradition.