We Are Not From Here

like a wind that burns your chest we did it again we did it the same again soul made from the mother's milk soul, hold me cover me wrap me in your clay like a lost child weeping in the streets without villages, cities without a country or a mother born in war warm me in your nest under the eaves you know? sometimes you can't be found anywhere and even i know we are not from here and all is fado, - meat in the ditch grave in the sea i'm still looking for you everywhere then i return to our house in the air in the air