See these lights?
Fires burning on the hillside
Northern tribes
On the road to Nineveh
Bent and abandoned - weary and hopeless
Once again
On the run to leave the heartland
Forgotten reign
Oh my people fell from grace
Cry for my children - mourn for their souls
Remorse. Cry for my children
Grace. Healing and blessing
Yazata
So run my children
Don't swallow your cries
I stare into those
Black trauma-eyes
Yazata
Cold and starvation
In shattered walls
Mount Sinjar trembles
Our temple falls
Mass emigration
Explosive vests
Boys suicidal
Girls Jump to death

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