She keeps her eye on the clock
And travels to far away places
And though she wants it to stop
It's left in God's hands and good graces
She lies on her back and thinks of
The last time she ever felt loved
And she's torn by memories
Too hard to deal with now
Feeling low so she cries to the wind
And she cries to the sun
Surely I have sinned
Surely I've done wrong
To belong in this cold hard place
Where I cry
I should have died in my homeland
So she goes back through time
And re-lives a life half forgotten
Before this loneliness and pain
And the horrors of wars she was caught in
Scenes that stopped her ma's heart
Stripped naked, legs torn apart
Now she's disposesed,
No homeland, no home, no compassion
As she waits to be processed
And sells herself short for some rations
When there's a knock on the door
She buries her face in the pillow
And she hides behind flowers
And feels that she's powerless
When the winds blow
When day turns to night
And the red lights shine down ..., like daggers