Bab 98: (Skippable) Collection Of Austronesian Songs 9

--Music—

Smokey Mountain

Paradise

Return to a land called paradise,

A place where a dying river ends.

No birds there fly over paradise,

No space allows them to endure.

The smoke that screens the air,

The grass that's never there.

And if i could see a single bird, what a joy.

I try to write some words and create

A simple song to be heard

By the rest of the world.

I live in this land called paradise,

In a house made of cardboard floors and walls.

I learned to be free in paradise,

Free to claim anything i see.

Matching rags for my clothes,

Plastic bags for the cold.

And if empty cans were all i have, what a joy.

I never fight to take someone

Else's coins and live with fear

Like the rest of the boys.

Paradise, help me make a stand.

Paradise, take me by the hand

Paradise, make the world understand