I now
Describe my country
As if to strangers
This train
Is full of songs
Of local winners
And the wind
Surrounds the towers
And the flags
They are blowing
And the bunting
And the distance
Stretches over
Our sound
And when he teases
The children
He calls them orphans
And he cries
For all the flowers
Of the forest
In his head
There is no reason
To be sad
About the garden
But his heart
Bleeds very often
For things forgotten
Like little orphans
Little orphans
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