| Far away across an ocean in a distant foreign land
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| A face is falling off from poison on an every aging man
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| And in the cracks and creases of the flesh a light goes out a constitution dies
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| By a fire in a forest a soldier sits holding a gun
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| In a village a young mother cries while looking at her son
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| Because while he sleeps and dreams so peacefully outside the enemy has arrived
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| And on the side of a bomb falling
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| Is my name penned to read left from right
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| In the street there is barbed wire from an unjust occupation
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| In the air a rocket’s fired and it feeds the desperation
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| Of a people pushed so far against the wall there is no escape to see
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| In a city’s crowded market an explosion brings despair
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| The people pack the streets holding high fists and coffins in the air
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| The reporter calmly calls one terrorist the former thought out strategy
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| And on that day in another season
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| A starving child forever closes his brown eyes
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| Here I sit with stomach full there’s peace and quiet on my street
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| In my closet there are clothes I have shoes tied onto my feet
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| I’m embarrassed by my sadness all because my hand’s empty
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| This is my cry throughout the world this is my apology
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| So I offer up my hand in all its barren readiness
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| And I offer up my voice and its origins in my chest
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| Help me give all that I can in spite of my unwillingness
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| Push me forwards toward compassion and away from selfishness |