May Our Daughters Return Home - She Makes War

In this city of dead women

Breezes blow subdued

People run from the night stalker

Hiding sordid truths

May our daughters return home

May our daughters return home

It’s cold in the desert

Pink crosses fly

Advertising the absence

Of a young girl’s life

Pale hearts and quiet bodies

Mothers fight and cry

No-one told you

But they are all our daughters too