He was 40 days old,
When they found him frozen to death
He died there alone,
On his bed which was a wounded chair,
There’s no glass on the window,
Just like there’s no one he can call dad,
Sorrow and fallen hopes are,
What his mom gets from this promised land,
Broken system, broken faces,
Is there a hope for a helping hand,
So tomorrow, will the sun rise?
Is there a thing to believe in left?
Ooooh we’re lost and damned,
He’s 11 years old,
But his body says he’s only six,
You can count the bones,
Through his thin and wounded skin,
He has a big dream,
Walking miles, taking shots everyday,
Just to save his people from this living hell,
One day!