It seems like all that is left from you is a stone but it’s not like all the others; no yours, yours is made of gold and it shines through all the trousers (of the people walking by); and your name that is written on it for us to never forget; and though I walk by every day and I’d love to I can’t remember your name.
Every day that is passing by it seems harder not to forget you; though we have to force ourselves to remind us ‘bout everything that has been done to you.
Most of you are older than eighty now and it’s sad truth but soon you’ll all be gone; but who’ll be telling us what happened back then? who’ll be speaking up against what’s happening now? but I wanna tell you that we carry you in our hearts and even though our faces are different we’ll try to speak your voice; and I know that our experiences, they cannot be the same; but I wanna tell you that your struggle will prevail!
Every day that is passing by it seems harder not to forget you; though we have to force ourselves to remind us ‘bout everything that has been done to you.