Red Sector A [A Show of Hands]

All that we can do is just survive
All that we can do to help ourselves
Is stay alive…

Ragged lines of ragged grey
Skeletons, they shuffle away
Shouting guards and smoking guns
Will cut down the unlucky ones

I clutch the wire fence
Until my fingers bleed
A wound that will not heal —
A heart that cannot feel —
Hoping that the horror will recede
Hoping that tomorrow —
We’ll all be freed

Sickness to insanity
Prayer to profanity
Days and weeks and months go by
Don’t feel the hunger — too weak to cry

I hear the sound of gunfire
At the prison gate
Are the liberators here —
Do I hope or do I fear?
For my father and my brother, it’s too late
But I must help my mother
Stand up straight…

Are we the last ones left alive?
Are we the only human beings
To survive?…