Nadescha:
I feel the heartbeat of new life beneath my hand
The faintest murmur of life echoes underneath my palm
Every rose has lost its color in this barren wasteland
The thunder always strikes when everything is so calm
I pray that the skies open up and rain floods this valley
The tiniest rain drop can spark life into nothing
And the smallest light can ignite an inferno
If God could touch this land, then a blade of grass could be born.
The land whispers its hunger on the wind, and like a lament it begins to mourn.

The wind that stings my face has never felt so sweet
The sweat upon my brow has never been so inviting
I rest my head in empty fields that were once alive with corn and wheat
I look to the heavens, but can only see a sky lit by lightning.

My God, have you forgotten about the six million souls?
Do you see their tears? Did you see them cry? Did you heal their fears?
They wandered this land and wept tears of blood
Now their names are engraved in your mud
Six million souls – spirited away and suddenly lost
How did they die? And at what kind of cost?
Are they wandering this barren land in which I live?
Or are they broken and scattered like my dreams
Are they lost in the darkness, out on the sea...?

The Refugees:
Six million souls set free. They ride upon the autumn wind.
And go to their place in the stars. But, we are the unlucky ones.
Where are we to go to? Back into the storm from where we came?
No life in this land – how can we spark life into this dirt?
For our journey has been a painful one
And the path has been steep and nothing but rocks
God has forgotten the six million souls that wander this place

Nadescha:
God, we are weary and ready to rest at your shores
I’ve been waiting to feel free and safe in a world that’s filled with hate
I would not wish to go back – so that things would be changed
I’ve been abandoned, beaten and left without a prayer
Feed a hungry beggar with crumbs; guide a troubled soul in the night
We are free upon the wind and wish to come back home
It’s good to know at least we are free

The Refugees:
At last we are free...

Nadescha & The Refugees:
My God, have you forgotten about the six million souls?
Do you see their tears? Did you see them cry? Did you heal their fears?
They wandered this land and wept tears of blood
Now their names are engraved in your mud
Six million souls – spirited away and suddenly lost
How did they die? And at what kind of cost?
Are they wandering this barren land in which I live?
Or are they broken and scattered like my dreams
Are they lost in the darkness, out on the sea...?

Nadescha:
We are God’s children and like the wind, we are now free
But where are the six million souls that haunt me so?
Are they broken and scattered like my dreams
Or are they lost in the darkness, out on the sea...?
Lost in the darkness, out on the sea...