They tell me the stories of previous years
The blackness and ashes left behind,
The sheer inhumanity moves me to tears
And yet – I’m convinced I’m walking blind,
For never can I understand where you’ve been
Or fathom the fires of which you spoke,
But see, for our people, I have to come clean:
A nation will not be fueled by smoke.
They show me the pictures of chambers of gas
Destruction and death in a darkened place,
Preserving the photos in delicate glass
To bring to the youth with an anxious face:
My children, you treasured ones, go out and learn!
And take up your stance by this flame that we stoke –
You’re feeding us charcoal, you think we will burn?
A nation will not be fueled by smoke.
For I long for a dream to which I can aspire
So how can you leave me to safeguard an ember?
I’m not of the ones that were brought through the fire
Yet all I am told is to sit and remember!
Perhaps you’ll accuse me of bitter betrayal
But I speak from a heart that long ago broke:
This lesson won’t save us, the message runs stale
For a nation will not be fueled by smoke.
So tell me the stories of all who’ve been weaned
On tales of tragedy, sorrow and woe
Insistent the martyred should not be demeaned –
And this is the teaching our children should know?!
This militance, anger, this “never again!”
And clinging to those who endured the yolk
But soon they will leave us, and what will come then?
A nation will not be fueled by smoke.
