The place I was born

is nothing that I'm proud of

it's chance not competence

So put away your flag

I won't be the wind

that makes it wave

Nations and gods are stories we keep telling

they are long gone

we don't seem to mind

Your borders and passports

they don't identify me

it takes more than a line

more than a sign

So put away

your colours

they make you look like an idiot

© Clara Luzia, published by ink Musikverlag