Outstretched, tragic Child, You reach for the motherless sky. Upon what Nation has the blood poured through, Of your generous kin? Take my hand, We'll break our bones to flee this, The lands of atrocities, Where empty smiles promise starving reward, From those you've chosen to wear the suit and tie. They stand tall, Fathers to the psychosomatic sheep. I wish you could see past the banners, They wave so high and bright. Wish you could feel the pain of the thousands, The Hunger rich people, far from sight. Take my hand, We'll tear our flesh to believe. There's a stronger heart within us all.
