Kites of Hope
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Video Transcript
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A little child, Stares into a void. In the ruins of hope,
Where the dead have moved eyes. If you heard them cry, Would you lend
a hand? Or must they scream in a language, That you understand?
Kites are flying, Gliding through the storm of ashes. Rising higher, Over homes that
have collapsed. With wings down ever spread, And way above the dread,
Little angels longingly waiting to have them back. In an ocean of lies,
They're drowning the truth. Enraging the fire, When hate is the fuel.
Kites are flying, Gliding through the storm of ashes. Rising higher, Over homes that
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