Mama, mama, mama, mama! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
Schocked from the cry of my child.
That second, that minute, that hour, that day, that time!
27th August to a call like soldiers gattering in Lebanon;
But August 2006 is still in my mind.
Like the place of oil and to rise up from a call!
Silence, war, peace;
My two legs were broken on this issue,
And the time now is sixty nine plus two.
Water for the day and wine for the weekend,
I’ve got my grades on this love of peace;
But war comes and i am already divided.
Of many hopes and dreams,
Life is not so smooth at times;
And it doesn’t end with nine months.
The cry of my child from the bedroom,
Like the 7,000 years of history to tell my story;
But, this was part of the shadow of things to come.
Of a measuring rod,
Of the great white stone,
To meet the press and the writers!
But i am the thinker who creates the circumstance of peace.
Taught by Hollywood with the candles that burnt down very low,
But your ways will prove out things when you do have love;
And like the cry of my child, what is old is now new.

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