My mom went to the store
handed over a coin
the keeper gave her back two

Yes, my mom does that too
it's called 'change' they say
still doesn't make much sense

How irrational, these grown-ups are

Today my son asked me
why do some people live on the streets
if we are all children of God

Yes, you have a point
we justify it all
but we don't really know

How irrational, we grown-ups are

Fragrance lingers in the stairwell
I ascend the same path a thousand times

It’s a cold morning
in the empty concrete space

I breathe in the familiar scent
that once filled my heart with pleasure

Pleasure that turned to pain
with its passing beauty

Do you still dream of things
you want but cannot have

But you think you could've gotten
if only you were good enough

These nights are awfully quiet
without the chatter of your old dreams

The crickets chirping
a moth banging on the window

No you can't get in
just like I can't touch the flame

Inside my memory
that lit up my room

In the sound of bedtime stories

There were things floating in Keelung harbour
that shouldn't have been there

The soil was soaked in red
marking the arrival of that spring

For years and years
rain came and washed away what remained

Children came into this land
kicking and screaming

Scream, little ones
many came before have lost their voice

Many will be fighting
for your right to scream

As you set your foot on this soil
that once carried the dreams

Of silent old men
telling stories with the look in their eyes