We bury our dead as we sing of tomorrow,

and mourn for our fallen whilst we dream of a hero.

The lights of our city won’t warm us tonight,

and kindness is scarce among those who fear for their lives.

The brave and bold now peaceful and cold

can’t hear the cries of their children anymore.

Yet we stay strong,

we carry on

like our fathers and mothers before,

who scavenged and hungered through famine and war,

but they aren’t here anymore.