I would like to write a songThat is so vibrant and so intimateThat the earth would adopt itAs if it had sprung like the stream
Dit is een lied voor de mensen die zorgen, dat morgen de mensen al dood zullen zijn,
My face in the rain I walk all alone It's Sunday time is slow I'm happy that is all I know
We were all uprooted The earth was stolen from beneath our feet We became a Diaspora An unnamed nation of bastards