The Refugee lyrics only
With all the conflicts going on in the world, it is often overlooked that most casualties are civilians.
The bombs keep falling, the sound never dies.
Chordite burns your nostrils, smoke stings your eyes
Your mouth is dry, from the taste of fallen masonry
When the dust is blown away, there's no one left to bury
We live in a catacomb, though we don't know it yet
Our house is a pile of bricks, window frames and nets
Mums favourite chair is here, though it's ten feet in the air
Souvenirs and childhood memories, all beyond repair
We ask for nothing but your hand
To take us away from all this hell
Care for those who have nothing
Bury the refugee where he fell
Bric-a-brac is packed, onto a pram with a bent wheel
Anything of value has been looted, nothing left to steal
Food and a plastic sheet, are now our prized possessions
Survival, fear and hope, become our daily rations
We ask for nothing but your hand
To take us away from all this hell
Care for those who have nothing
Bury the refugee where he fell
We join the line of the lost, forlorn and forgotten
No one ever bothers with, some one who has nothin'
Shuffling like a dirty scar, moving across the land
Seeking todays Jerusalem, buried somewhere in the sand
Who cares for the refugee, who has no home or hope
His world is in a laundry bag tied up with a piece of rope
We ask for nothing but your hand
To take us away from all this hell
Care for those who have nothing
Bury the refugee where he fell
Comments
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Very strong visuals. It's a compelling song. All the details of the bent pram wheel and mum's chair 10' in the air, etc hit hard.
A minor thing, you might swap "To take us away" for "Take us away" to make it active, and to match subsequent lines.
Gives me an early U2 vibe.
Good stuff!
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Thank you so much for your feedback. Your point is well taken and I see exactly what you mean.
I am impressed with your eye for detail and professionalism. Thanks again
Sid
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We meaning us who take so much for granted can only summon our imagination & even then we will never know what it is really like to be in their shoes.
Your lyrics portray & paint pictures of hurt & despair.
When nothing else matters or has any significant value, even our so-called treasures. But a hand, a helping hand is the bridge to salvation.
....his world is in a laundry bag, tied up with a piece of rope.....
That line got to me.
you're a poet sir.
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Thank you Colin, for your comments and your compassion
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I totally get the words. You've already demonstrated that you're fine lyricist. RDM mentioned U2. I can imagine that too. I'm not very good at analyzing or offering critique for lyrics to be honest, but I know good ones when I read them. You paint the whole sorry picture so well.
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Howdy, Stranger!