Come to her in peace, and she will meet you with peace
the trees will drip honey
and fresh olive oil flowing
as the streams of her hills
but come in war
and those same trees will draw swords
bleeding as they do
and those hills with bristle with arrows
falling like the rain
come with love, and you will be met with wine
our hearths will greet you
with hot bread and laughter
and the twinkling smiles of children
as beautiful as the stars
come in hatred,
and you will be just another story
passed down through our generations
another fool cast down to the mud
another tale to crown our tables
Understand this,
and only this
come as you are
my dear friends
you can take our lives,
but you cannot take our home
