Suffering in the mist of plenty.
Like the river of Babylon,
We sat beside the rock of Sharon
Waiting for the saint of heaven
To redeem our foot before cock crow
Out of prison with season of no reasoning
Yet, we were expected to sing a love song
In a strange land to forget or regret
On a casket of innocent fighters
O Babylon hear me
O Jerusalem liberates us
How can we sing the Lord’s song
In a strange land?…
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