Your city is crumbling, you’re all terrified
Pack everyone in, make a dash for the border
Fifteen in your family, you ran for your lives
Your father’s own father he fought the invaders
Your father he welcomes them dressed to the nines
Your brothers and sisters and babies are with you
They rode that truck until most of them died
Goodbye to this family shot down by our soldiers
And those who a thousand cruise missiles roll over
You won’t have a name when you’re killed by our airplanes
All they will call you is dead Iraqis
All of this is illegal and none of it warranted
Not moral or just or sanctioned by law
The world cries for peace and the world cries for justice
The Bush-thieves and profiteers only know war
They died in their houses and died in their markets
Blown up on the front lines picked off on the plains
They died ’neath the rubble our bombs made of buildings
Soldiers, civilians, they died just the same
The warplanes drop death over Baghdad and Basra
Fireballs of murder that light up the sky
Who are all these strangers all scattered like red leaves?
The media just calls them "dead Iraqis"
I want to remember that terrified family
Wiped out at a checkpoint by frightened Marines
Bakhat and Lamea lost most of their loved ones
But we’ll only know them as "dead Iraqis"
Contributed by Riccardo Venturi - 2005/7/3 - 19:12
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