return to a land called paraiso
a place where a dying river ends
no birds there fly over paraiso
no space allows them to endure
the smoke that screens the air
the grass that's never there
and if i could see a single bird what a joy
i try to write some words and create
a simple song to be heard
by the rest of the world
i live in this land called paraiso
in a house made of cardboard floors and walls
i learned to be free in paraiso
free to claim anything i see
matching rags for my clothes
plastic bags for the cold
and if empty cans were all i have what a joy
i never fight to take someone else's coins
and live with fear
like the rest of the boys
paraiso help me make a stand
paraiso take me by the hand
paraiso make the world understand
that if i could see a single bird what a joy
this tired and hungry land could expect
some truth and hope and respect
from the rest of the world
return to a land called paraiso
a place where a dying river ends
no birds there fly over paraiso
no space allows them to endure
the smoke that screens the air
the grass that's never there
and if empty cans were all i have
what a joy
i never fight to take someone else's coins
and live with fear
like the rest of the boys
paraiso
help me make a stand
paraiso
take me by the hand
paraiso
make the world understand
that if i could see a single bird
what a joy
this tired and hungry land
could expect
some truth and hope and respect
from the rest of the world
paraiso
help me make a stand
paraiso
take me by the hand
paraiso
make the world understand
that if i could see a single bird
what a joy
this tired and hungry land could expect
some truth and hope and respect
from the rest
that if i could see a single bird
what a joy
this tired and hungry land
could expect
some truth and hope and respect
from the rest
of the world
