Will this be the year?

Standing at another threshold,

Empty eyes and a battered soul.

Will this be the year,

I see you again?

Kneeling before another shrine,

Lonely heart and trembling words.

Will this be the year,

I hear you again?

Fallen before another source,

Parched lips and confounded dreams.

Will this be the year,

You lift me up again?

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Sh

We’re all immigrants in this place

We’re all immigrants in this place,

Wondering if the life we’ve chosen

is better

Than the existence we left behind.

We’re all immigrants in this place,

Praying the future we imagined

Is better

Than the past we try to remember.

We’re all immigrants in this place,

Hoping our return home,

Is better

Than the journey here.

We’re all immigrants in this place,

Believing starting anew

Is better

Than incessant oblivion.

Sh

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