Dead bodies and machine gun eyes
I think they believe the lies
That they are fed
And when they lie in bed
They must stop the truth from reaching them 
And life must be teaching them 
How to bear the weight they’ve been gifted
I sweat in my jumper that’s been thrifted
From some nearby store
And I just wanted to change it more 
But how do you compete with belief
And you just feel relief 
When it falls away from you 
It doesn’t matter if you don’t know what to do
What matters is that you’re wiling to be led
Not blind opposition to what’s being said 
And I watch Ben Gvir shout his refrain 
Does he even know the pain 
He’s in and so inflicts 
They say that some day wars will be fought with sticks
After we’ve destroyed ourselves
Why do you put them in cells
If they are brother and sister tide
Please leave the Palestinians alive
You’ve done enough
And, God knows, it wasn’t out of love
It was to feed that old demon 
That’s always dreaming 
He will rule the world 
And what does it matter what says this girl 
Who is just a child of Irish rain 
And our own kind of particular pain 
As we live on the land
Our ancestors once couldn’t understand
As it was stolen from beneath them 
Until someone bequeath them 
Their own patch of ground 
And do you hear the sound
Of the child cry
Why must I be the one to let her die? 

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