for palestine Video (MV)

I learned the flowers of the land that I always sing about
I know their uses their seasons their terrains and their meanings
Risen from the ashes of burning forests and clung on sandy hills crumbling
I learned the flowers of the land that I always sing about
From the elders who refused the loss of their history
As I call their land my home I wonder did I listen, hear them when they speak
There are poppies in my backyard breaking through the concrete
But another type with the white heart marks the graves of the innocent
Braver than the ignorant, hardened and resilient, and how can I stay stagnant while witnessing it
There's been blood on the land that I always sing about
And I must know whose it is and of the context of its spill
And if the blood seeks to to stain then who am I to say that I'll advert my gazer and that I will stay still
Blood is drying when it's ought to course
If a god exists I hope that it's yours
Blood is drying when it's ought to course
If a god exists I hope that it's yours
So on another land where our souls need a land to call home
We must see we must learn the flowers from those
Who showed them that land how to live how to know
And their blood should not be why the poppies
Have a space to grow