Seven

He left his motherland on an ugly note
Hugging his luggage close on a rubber boat
He lost his wife, a soldier cut her throat
He lost his life and watched his home going up in smoke
Those you love the most could vanish in a few seconds
Who wouldn’t choose to pack up and find a new setting?
There he was, head spinning, feeling sad and nauseous
On this small boat with no provisions, feeling mad exhausted
When he approached the coast he had to act precautious
But got captured by the forces with their flashing torches
Escorted back and insulted, he had a fair run…
Back at home, back at war, back at square one…
He left his mother country for the second time
He arrived, greeted by people in a line
«Go Home Immigrants !» written on their picket signs
For some when you try to survive you commit a crime
He made it past the cops, now he’s in Europe’s hands
Crossing borders, hiding, heading up north, across the land
To end up trapped, emprisoned in one of them awful camps
Behind barbwire, stranded in the north of France
Hated and pointed at by European governments
Every day extremists came to insult him and rub it in
But he didn’t listen to fools screaming, so used to their own freedom
They’d even forgot the true meaning. He got:
Hope — when you ain’t got nothing to lose. You got:
Hope — you ain’t in the position to choose. You need:
Hope — when you just wanna keep your civility
A piece of liberty, some peace and stability
Hope — when you ain’t got nothing to lose. You got:
Hope — you ain’t in the position to choose. You need:
Hope — when you just wanna keep your civility
A piece of liberty, some peace and stability
Hope