Broken Houses

From the Album Troubadour

Down the streets of broken houses
Kids grow old before their time
I can hear those sirens screaming
Between your house and mine
There’s a little baby crying
Mamma’s not at home
Daddy’s on the street
Left baby all alone

It’s our thoughts; it’s our future
It’s our voices; it’s our life
We are young; we’re not children
We are fighting for our life

In the small towns of the country
You can hear the tires squeal
In the malls in the suburbs
Where the streets are getting filled
With the farmers money
There’s something coming down
All the stores on main street
Are crumbling to the ground

It’s our thoughts; it’s our future
It’s our voices; it’s our life
We are young; we’re not children
We are fighting for our life

From Laos into Thailand
Across the Mekong
River we are swimming
Through the nights into the dawn
Now I miss my country
Now I miss my friends
How can we go back
When the killing never ends

It’s our thoughts; it’s our future
It’s our voices; it’s our life
We are young; we’re not children
We are fighting for our life

Words & Music by Larry Long
Copyright Larry Long 1992 | BMI

*Collectively written with participants at the Youth & Democracy Conference at Carroll College in Waukesha, Wisconsin.

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