In memory of Qana

When the whole world
waits for you to die
don't go searching for your dreams
Where metaphor's  lost its wings
how high can they fly?

What are you looking for?
A friend? A stranger? A lover?
A shoulder on which to sigh?

This is no time for tears
Six thousand miles away
where beasts of war are howling
your mother can hear you cry

She tells you nothing is wrong
the spirits are high-the hearts are strong
but six thousand miles away
she can hear the song
They don't want her grief
nor to see her cry
they just want her to die

When the whole world
waits for you to die
know that people have a heart
their conscience is not dry
it's just not yours to try

Why do you tax their souls?
They did not kill your dead
all they did was close
their eyes and hearts instead

Why do you still bleed?
Can't you understand?
Gentle souls don't weep
Should they lose their sleep
for your children's blood?
Remember that your children
are of a lesser God

By Comte Almaviva