Tzedakah

The victim, the war, the blood on my door… No one wants that…
The guns, the bombs, this pitiful song…
The death, the stone, a cold empty home…
Sickness, disease, the broken families…
What would you do, if things turned out that way?
What would you say if things would never change?
So think of a way, we didn’t have to stay the same…
How does it sound? It doesn’t sound in sane
A word, a sign, our own peace of mind… That’s what we want…
No more disease, a hope for world peace…
A move, a dance, a new fucking chance…
A breath, a sigh, a blue fucking sky…