Writhe -

Regarding the pain of the Palestinians

Lyrics

Am I the scorching sun above

Or the child exposed?

Mimicking this wilting weed

My lone shade in the desert

Every drop of hope I had

You drank your fill;

excess spills down your beard

The pharaoh, once your oppressor

Now your paragon

Screeching owls circles your gardens

Screaming «blood guilt»

Mass graves fertilize olive trees

Our graves left unwatered

Criticize our modest blossom

While you leach our tongue

Tell us all of your exceeding greatness

Through «small, dath-spitting mouths»

Fingers rise to flick the locusts

That you rsurrect

Mother Hagar smiles and wipes her eyes

God has seen us writhe in dust

Our thirst will be sated

Our keys, kept, will open the floodgates