 Looking for his four children The bombs leave structures that I wouldn't want to call buildings My fingers pointed at this government, you all killed them Tell me that you wouldn't take up arms if those were your children Let me make the factor clear, the bombs were manufactured here And they want to land as theirs because of natural gas in there Feel death in the atmosphere while we hapless stand and stare And a little boy begs for his brother's strand of hair Truth is I don't know how anyone can live After digging for their dead kids buried under bricks