Keep quiet, listen, the bulletin,’ “
A dozen times, day in , day out.
Nothing changes, year after year,
Every thing is still the same here.
Still we have assassinations
And still we have retributions.
Yet we do leave every thing behind
And listen with yearning to find
If a miracle might take place
And bring solution to this case.
But ,alas, the same confusion,
The same hope and disillusion.
Oh, but for just half an hour
Without getting my heart sour,
To go to the gym and work out,
Or hang around and roam about,
To inhale the breeze of the morning
Without knowing who’s now mourning,
To feel the sand beneath my feet
And freely walk in fields of wheat.
Oh, but for a few hours’ sleep
Without having a gun to keep
In the hand or under the head
So as to enjoy a warm bed.
Oh, for one day’s tranquility,
Away from such reality,
No matter how temporary
It’s damn sure satisfactory.
Oh, for one night’s passionate love
With a full moon and stars above,
Angles and fairies fluttering
All round glowing and glittering.
Oh, but for a moment’s respite
Without having to die or fight,
Without inflicting pain or grief,
Just a moment however brief,
Away from the frustrating news
About the Arabs and the Jews.
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