Oh,mother make my supper
I’m coming home to die
I have no fried or lover
And God won’t tell me why
Oh, make me apple dumpling
And boil it on the fire
I don’t know why I’m crumpling
I never learned to lie,
Oh, boil the sooty kettle
When you can hear the train
I’m not on my mettle
I shan’t come home again
I am sick of living though
I’ve tried to learn the game
I got the feeling you must know
When sorrow turns to shame
You can keep my green suede handbag
And my Nivea face cream
You took them off me anyway
And ruptured all my dreams.
You tried your best to conquer me
But that was your mistake
For ]’d have given you freely~
All you chose to take
Power was your blind motive~
And love was never free
But even children notice
When their soul wants to flee
But I shall eat your food once more
Before I take my rest
If you had not been greedy
Life would have been no test
Mothers eat their children
When they cannot let them go
And smile and smile as they pass by
And noone knows it’s show
Take me to the heather moors
Make me a little grave
Do not weep ,for I shall sleep
With wise men and with knaves
Some day is the last one
But only Jesus sees
The sorrow and the tragedy
Of Auschwitz’ silver trees
The birches are so beautiful
As were the gays and Jews
They died in cultured Europe
It was not on the News.
Once Europe fought within itself
Now we tried to be good friends
But now the general public think
All that’s at an end
The past cannot come back again
We have no Empire left
The people who rule over us
Have failed in all their tests
Take the boat on now, my dear
And throw me overboard
I’d rather be the food of fish
Than perish by the sword
And in the space that I have left
Plant a nutmeg tree
For here I was and here I loved
Who knew my destiny?
r
How my heart sings 