Abbie Gale Air
The days are heavy the hours a lot to bear
in Europe there’s fresh air
or is it long past gone
For the air is something everybody needs
but no one ever cared
for me the way you did
Give me the air, give me the wings
To fly away…
The war has started two thousand years ago
and Jesus still gets nailed
to the cross that everyone builds…
This cross is the field of your sickness
his boredom
her fears
and my sins
and our last chance
To Not Fear
Do Not Fear…
