The war is over but I'm still afraid
lookin' to the sky
lookin' over my shoulder
have the bombs really stopped falling
or am I imagining the silence

please let it be done
please let it be true
that the clouds have broken
and the sun is shining through
that the grass has turned green once again

before the bombs, before the gunpowder scent
I wouldn't hurry on the street and
I wouldn't shush my children
when a car drove by, tires screeching on the
pavement

there's an untouched drawer and an empty
seat at the table, though the
fork is set out
the dusty book lying on the floor speaks
of forgotten words and forgetting places

the bombs have left, but the people are still here
cleaning p the wreckage