Refugee

Little boy in the middle of the sea
Nothing to drink, nothing to eat
At the mercy of the wind, and the whims of the waves
If not for fate, that would be me

Can't live at home, it's too dangerous
Running from the devil and this game of his
The bombs have made the city a ghetto
A ghost town where explosions still echo
Innocent people try to save their lives
Trying to escape their impending demise
One little boy tries to leave alone
To try to survive on his own

Little boy in the middle of the sea
Nothing to drink, nothing to eat
At the mercy of the wind, and the whims of the waves
If not for fate, that would be me

Scared little boy, out at sea
No companions or family
No time for play, no time for fun
'Cause this little boy is on the run
Scared little boy got nowhere to go
Tired of hearing the machine guns
Tired of sitting on this rubber raft
The heat makes him deliriously laugh

Little boy in the middle of the sea
Nothing to drink, nothing to eat
At the mercy of the wind, and the whims of the waves
If not for fate, that would be me

Dead little boy, washed up on the shore
Sand in his hair, laying on the floor
Circling seagulls fly overhead
Glazed eyes look up at the skies
Buzzing flies, it's a gruesome sight
We wonder what he was running for
Now he doesn't have to run no more

Little boy in the middle of the sea
Nothing to drink, nothing to eat
At the mercy of the wind, and the whims of the waves
If not for fate, that would be me



Credits
Writer(s): Max Miller
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link