Langue   

There Will Be No Morning Copy

Clann Zù
Langue: anglais


Clann Zù


Your borders are bloody mirages that expand and contract at the will of the blade
drawn across the back of a people in shadow.
We are on the ropes.

Tasting the blood in our mouths,
mixing with what little hope we have left
as it slides down our throats
constricted by hands of avarice,
soft media, oxymorons and military might.

How long must we live in the shadow
of your wall that divides our lives,
our loves and our hopes?

How long must we live in the daily fear
of returning home to find it gone?
We are refugees in our own land,
waiting in hope for the day
when we can walk our own streets.

Just because you have the biggest gun
doesn't mean your war is won.

Just because you take our homes
doesn't mean our hope is gone.

Just because you claim your cause as just
doesn't mean that you're still not wrong.

Just because you build a wall
doesn't mean it will last that long.

A bullet flies through the head of another ten-year-old boy
who held a rock in his hand against a thirty-ton tank
in his people's land.



Page principale CCG

indiquer les éventuelles erreurs dans les textes ou dans les commentaires antiwarsongs@gmail.com




hosted by inventati.org