Mein Schatz

Polluted, crowded streets
Dirty, worn out sheets
My mom couldn't make rotting food
change my pessimistic mood

A whole family cooped up in a single, tiny room
I have to wonder, will this be my tomb?
What's a blitzkreig? a lighting war
Papa mutters, "Poor, poor, poor.."

I don't visit my friends anymore
What would I give to see out that door?
The clock ticks on, day by day
Why do the Nazis get to parade?

Why is my culture faced with disgust?
All for a man lost in anti-semitism and political lust
My whole world is in a tiny, bland room
I'll fight for this won't be my tomb

"Mein schatz," Mama whispers to me
What I would give if my eyes could see
Past the window, out the door
Papa mutters, "Poor, poor, poor.."
Taken away, dirty and beaten
Sad and mistreated
What is health, what is food?
Not even Mama can lighten this mood

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