The meaning is that while local Pakistani people opened their homes and hearts to their guests, regarding them as gifts from their God, there seems to be a discrepancy between how they relate to their guests and how a sociopathic guest related to everyone around him.
Because this song is plain and simple, it is more engaging than a piece of work that talks about superego deficiency etc.
A couple of months down the line, I will be commissioning the production of this song, I've got a voice already, so I need:
- a composer of music melody as I have no compositional ability whatsoever. Get in touch if you have a composition portfolio.
- an accompanist- guitar/ piano/ anything feasible
- a recording studio to use.
Perhaps one person can come with all of these things!! Get in touch if you are able to help.
Copyright of the written lyrics belongs to ME!!!!!!Gift of God
There was a man with fine black hair
Dwelling in the lands of Pakistan
A guest he was
To the Muslim hosts
A guest he was
Received by hearts of joy
A guest he was
Seen as the gift of God
So he was given
Unto joyful hosts
So he was given
he was given
from land to land…
Things were given up
For this guest from God
All things changed-
The eating, the sleeping space
Mostly given up for him
And sincerely offered
All were different-
Food for the energetic guest,
Bedding that embraced his body and soul
Little did they know
Of his personality disorder
Chronic and lifelong
Chronic and lifelong
Did his heart feel joy
Or did his brain matter overrule?
Chronic and lifelong
Chronic and lifelong
Chronic and lifelong
Chronic and lifelong
Back to the days of Pakistan,
So he was given
So he was given
From host to host
From heart to heart
So he was given
So he was received
A gift from God
From land to land
Will he ever know this?
Will he ever know?
So he was given
So he was received
Will he ever show
What they have shown to him?
All this in a disordered life
Chronic and lifelong
So tell me, Doctor Dobbert
Will his brain mature?
Tell me doctor,
What was wrong with him?
Shower of lies
Replaces shower of love
Tell me doctor, will his brain mature?
Perhaps it will, perhaps not
Maybe it never will!
So scientists, do me a favour,
do all of us a favour
take the Nobel Prize,
Tell me doctor, will his brain mature?