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The houses, the stones and the coal painted the world black
The sun was rising but I never saw it, it was dark down there
No one spoke only the sound of a shovel digging, digging
The hands the forehead has the sweat of those who die
In the eyes in the heart there is an emptiness bigger than the sea
The dear face of those who hope comes to mind
This evening like many others in a return.
When I returned you were happy
To see my hands again
Black with smoke, white with love.
But a blacker dawn while the country awakens
A dull roar stops the breathing of those who are outside
Fear terror on the dear face of those who hope
This evening like so many in a return.
I wasn't returning and you were crying
And it couldn't my smile
Removing the tears from your beautiful face.
When I returned you were happy
To see my hands again
Black with smoke, white with love