Our Mania

When a bomb drops on my head,
You are the one at the bottom.
Where do you expect us to go when the bombs fall?

A pain we'd never wish upon you.
Nothing less than a genocide.
Why is it that you attack your own people on your own land?

Families protest is screams and tears.
There isn't an escape if you follow us.
What do you expect us to do when bullets rain?

If the terrain is only sandy deserts,
And all we have are rags,
Where do you expect us to go when the bombs fall?