| She dreams of nineteen sixty-nine
|
| Before the soldiers came
|
| The life was cheap on bread and wine
|
| And sharing meant no shame
|
| She is awakened by the screams
|
| Of rockets flying from nearby
|
| And scared, she clings onto her dreams
|
| To beat the fear that she might die
|
| And who will have won
|
| When the soldiers have gone?
|
| From the Lebanon
|
| The Lebanon
|
| Before he leaves the camp he stops
|
| He scans the world outside
|
| And where there used to be some shops
|
| Is where the snipers sometimes hide
|
| He left his home the week before
|
| He thought he’d be like the police
|
| But now he finds he is at war
|
| Weren’t we supposed to keep the peace
|
| And who will have won
|
| When the soldiers have gone?
|
| From the Lebanon, the Lebanon
|
| The Lebanon, from the Lebanon
|
| I must be dreaming
|
| It can’t be true
|
| I must be dreaming
|
| It can’t be true
|
| And who will have won
|
| When the soldiers have gone?
|
| From the Lebanon, the Lebanon
|
| The Lebanon, from the Lebanon |