Vārdi: Blockheads. Shapes Of Misery. Greed.

I'm hidden from you, my lifeless youth,
Yet I was born close to the black gold.
Here us weak things die by famine
And plagues you forgot about for centuries
Greed for oil, greed for more !
Sure you thought of protecting us.
I was born in Iraq, died at the age of three
And my finger points at the blockade meant to free me,
My skinned bones still point at your silent faces