Behind the dirt
Sprawled before us
Behind narrow eyes
And faces of fat
Beyond those hands
Opened or closed
That strain in vain
Nor raise thier fists
Further than frontiers
That barb our path
Further than misery
We must look
The grey sky or blue
The women by the stream
The faithful friend
Tomorrow's sun
The fly to the swallow
The boat that returns
The faithful friend
Tomorrow's sun
The fly to the swallow
The boat that returns
Beyond the concert
Of sobbs and tears
Of cries of anger
Of men in fear