In one small country
One person died in
One suicide bombing in
One little car heading to
One little party.
When it was near one big bus,
My only child
Was unaware of what was to come -
One big explosion

Palestinian lady
Her home, her jail
Ten beds,
In one little room
That's all she has
And what she doesn't is
Freedom
To have some space,
Security for kids.
Instead of children on the streets
They have tanks
Instead of water pistols
They have weapons
My nation
Took her right
To live.

Our children are dead,
They're not coming home
But Arafat is talking peace.
Our children don't have a peaceful future
Nor a future at all
But Sharon is talking peace.

Our souls are screaming and crying
Because the pain's not gone
Our children are dying
It goes on and on.
How does it matter?
Sharon and Arafat can talk peace
Where, where is it hiding?
Show us please!

Peace means quietness,
The quiet of love
But we only hear
The quiet of death.