Your heart is like a synagogue in Berlin
It is guarded day and night
I wish it were different
But it's not how I thought it would be
Naked priests run praying
Through the hot night
And little children cry in the back garden
Because something woke them up
We sing to remind ourselves of
My truth in 17 words:
I have a child to raise,
A letter to write you
And a football team to support
Bring me the sons of all the whores and prostitutes,
Bring me the feverish and the broken
Bring me the obese and bring me the sinners
Without hope, hungry mouths
Give me the sparks and flames to burn
Give my air lungs to run
These are hard times to stand alone
But hard times will come and hard times will go
We sing to remind ourselves of
My truth in 17 words:
I have a child to raise,
A letter to write you
And a football team to support
In all cities and plazas and villages
is my truth in 17 words:
I have a child to raise,
A letter to write you
And a football team to support
For we sing to remind ourselves of
My truth in 17 words:
I have a child to raise,
A letter to write you
And a football team to support