Children’s tears

The river’s fast it’s wide and deep
It’s filled with tears the children weep.

I stopped on the West Bank awhile
long enough to see angels smile.
The stones thrown were meant to test
The bullets fired ripped through my chest.

Travelling to West Papua
I tried to raise the Morning Star.
Kopassus fired on the unarmed crowd –
bodies draped in a bloody shroud.

As bombs rained down – I ran
through the villages of South Sudan.
Children’s hunger and their fear
here, there, everywhere.

The river’s fast it’s wide and deep
It’s filled with tears the children weep.

Politicians pray for peace
and for all the wars to cease
but this is just duplicity
it can’t hide their hypocrisy.

And the ones who made the bombs
it is you who fills the tombs.
You’re the ones who get the gold
for each and every weapon sold.

Money made from your arms trade
guns and bomb and hand grenade
may buy you your latest thrill
but remember – weapons kill.

The river’s fast it’s wide and deep
It’s filled with tears the children weep.