Do you see the soldiers that are out today
To brush the dust from bullet proof vests away
It's ironic, at times like this you pray
But a bomb blew the mosque up yesterday
There's bombs in the buses, bikes, roads
Inside your market, your shops, your clothes
My dad he's got a lot of fear I know
But enough pride inside not to let that show
My brother had a book he would hold with pride
A little red cover with a broken spine
On the back, he hand wrote a quote inside
"When the rich wage war it's the poor who die"
