Promised Land - Sarah Jane Morris

A Cuban stowaway

Found dead yesterday

On the wheel-bay of an aeroplane

On another busy runway.

A Kurdistan woman crushed to death

Under the wheels of a shiny truck

As it leaves the ferry one busy morning

She runs out of luck.

Where are we going, what is our goal?

Where is the promised land,

The land where dreams are sold?

An Albanian youth was found

Washed up by the sea

Near a holiday town.

He drowned they say

Trying to get to Italy.

They taped the mouth of the Nigerian

As they transported him to Sofia

As he suffocated the last thing he saw

Was a board advertising Ikea.

I took my camera to the mountain top.

I am granted some stunning shots.

The melted caps, the blasted sky,

The withered root, the rising tide,

The cancerous landscape, our faiths collide.

There is no longer a place to hide.

Where are we going what is our goal?

Where is the promised land, yeah

The land where dreams are sold?

The land where dreams are sold.

The land where dreams are sold.