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Hostile this land captures us and chides us
Who knows what goes
beyond these horizons?
The goddess of the breeze tells not what
she sees.
We
depend on streams which water life inside us;
defend till death
the cool dark caves which hide us from daytime's burning sky.
Against
all odds by evening some of us survive. Hurrah!
We've made
it through one more day.
We've made it through one more day.
Alive!
Alive!
Tomorrow is taboo here.
Don't mention its name.
The
diseased don't question their harsh exile.
Sacrifices dwindle
too our numbers.
We eat in silent shame.
Don't mention its
name.
Night
brings freezing cold winds which bite through us.
Before their
pain we huddle and share whispers.
We speak of former lives.
We
still tell young ones the fairytale of how we used to fly, miles
high,
looking down on white clouds,
looking down on white
clouds.
They cry "you lie!"
- to disbelief from
wonder
- to disbelief from wonder.
Sleep
seeps in with dancing half-seen memories
- a world so close so
suddenly so distant which crumbled as we ran
from which this
world began.
Cars,
computers, food shops and brick houses.
How spoilt we were!
How
did we fail to notice the rising of the tide?
Countless died.
Were
we lucky?
Well, we survived.
We're alive!
We've made it
through one more night.
We've made it through one more night.
Cold
dreams, white screams
This time is our past's future.
This
time is our past's future.
We used to fly, miles high,
looking
down on white clouds,
looking down on white clouds.
Cold dreams,
white screams
This time is our past's future.
Don't mention
its name.
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