First time I saw Rachel, I looked deep into her eyes.
My reflection there was a gaping stare,
as I watched her laugh in that photograph,
and time between us lost somewhere.
First time I saw Rachel, I began to realize,
she possessed such grace in her youthful face,
sweet integrity that woke a void in me.
Now her passion breathes within that space.
It has nothing to do with age,
it's not our languages, religion, gender, colour of our skin.
It's a soul within a well that echoes deep beneath the ego's shell.
True life can't ever start ’til we offer up our heart.
As the wolves lick their teeth at the sheep in rows,
I want to live the life that Rachel chose.
All the girls and boys, seen preening through school halls,
fighting to fit in, games we just can't win.
Higher education dumbing down a nation,
’round the square, unsure of where we fit in.
It has nothing to do with age,
it's not our languages, religion, gender, colour of our skin.
It's a soul within a well that echoes deep beneath the ego's shell.
True life can't ever start ’til we offer up our heart.
When the wolves rip the fleece from the sheep – God knows,
I want to live the life that Rachel chose.
Rachel, what so pushed you, to put so much on hold?
From a school-hall door to a need for more?
From where we all stayed, to where you last laid,
silently strong in the choices you made.
It has nothing to do with age,
it's not our languages, religion, gender, colour of our skin.
It's a soul within a well that echoes deep beneath the ego's shell.
True life can't ever start ’til we offer up our heart.
When hate tears the hope where the olive tree grows.
I will live the life that Rachel chose.
My reflection there was a gaping stare,
as I watched her laugh in that photograph,
and time between us lost somewhere.
First time I saw Rachel, I began to realize,
she possessed such grace in her youthful face,
sweet integrity that woke a void in me.
Now her passion breathes within that space.
It has nothing to do with age,
it's not our languages, religion, gender, colour of our skin.
It's a soul within a well that echoes deep beneath the ego's shell.
True life can't ever start ’til we offer up our heart.
As the wolves lick their teeth at the sheep in rows,
I want to live the life that Rachel chose.
All the girls and boys, seen preening through school halls,
fighting to fit in, games we just can't win.
Higher education dumbing down a nation,
’round the square, unsure of where we fit in.
It has nothing to do with age,
it's not our languages, religion, gender, colour of our skin.
It's a soul within a well that echoes deep beneath the ego's shell.
True life can't ever start ’til we offer up our heart.
When the wolves rip the fleece from the sheep – God knows,
I want to live the life that Rachel chose.
Rachel, what so pushed you, to put so much on hold?
From a school-hall door to a need for more?
From where we all stayed, to where you last laid,
silently strong in the choices you made.
It has nothing to do with age,
it's not our languages, religion, gender, colour of our skin.
It's a soul within a well that echoes deep beneath the ego's shell.
True life can't ever start ’til we offer up our heart.
When hate tears the hope where the olive tree grows.
I will live the life that Rachel chose.
envoyé par DoNQuijote82 - 2/11/2011 - 23:35
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Out seeing the fields
dedicata a Rachel Corrie