Brother,don't raise your finger To point at me and say: There he goes in his funny clothes. They are not yours They are mine. Do not screw your mouth To describe the way I dress my children They never dress to your taste They dress to my taste Do not crane your neck Into my house To see what food i eat It is not your appetite to satify; It is my appetite. Brother,don't turn yourself Into a diary To record the life i have led, I have left you alone You also leave me alone