Dimantha

In the street he fights for his life

He rarely ever takes the time to look up

Except to scream at the sky

He's always asking Why

With a gun strapped to his side

He lays down for the night

He tries to ignore all the terrible cries

Of women and babies he hears through the night

Here at home we sit and watch

The television as our brain rots

We don't even think about

The little kids taking shots

A 12 year old boy with a gun in his hand

He's told You have to do this to remain in my hands

No protection only corruption soiling up his mind

This world is a thief

It's taken his family his everything

He's abandoned how he was taught to be proper

God save the streets of Sri Lanka

His mind goes back to the last day

He was referred to as son

Before the only thing he was taught

To do was shoot and run

He remembers the embrace of his mother

And the words he heard from his father saying welcome home

I know there has got to be away

To bring him back to safety

God send your children home

God send your children home