At home and abroad, their tune rings
Not because their stereo screams sounds
But because their feet first found the soil
Of visuals, images and entertainment
Natives and neighbours hail their name
Even strangers don’t call them strange.
They are the mother of the future
Yet the father of the overfertile womb
They are the likable landlord of the living
Yet the sweet funeral of the dying
They are the gods of all regions
Yet the subjects of meagre mockery
The authority of every ambition
Yet the eager executioner of earnest enthusiasm.