Mr. President
I can not sleep
every time I'm mute, I hear an explosion
my mattress was burned by fire and smoke
my fears out of the nest
song so cry
my toys also bleed
Mr. President
we were runaway
we became exile
we become criminal fugitives
we became suspects because of our faith and worship
we were sentenced to death on the hanger
by those who silenced our tongues
because the faith creed that faith is spoken
Mr. President
we will break the al-Quds capital of the palette
the purpose that GOD wrote between prayer and hope
