Lena has sung, but she'll sing again. Beneath the desert sun, in withered skin. And there beside the turquoise beach, her milk amber eyes will see again.
Lena once walked from Tehran to a lot. She carried one child, she carried one thought. Now may her children spread her gold and silver threads.
Lena's somewhere. I know she thought of us, and reached across the sea because she was that way. And so what life she saved, now through her hand remains to keep the life she passed and take the choice she gave