Locked armed guard posts
 Safe from the screams
 Of the children born as ghosts
 Gates guns and alarms
 Shape the calm of the dawn
 Peering down into the basin
 Where death lives on
 Where young run foaming at the mouth with hate
 Where burning batons beat the freezing who shake
 Under the toxic sunsets they dine and toast
 Their walls deny the terror faced by the children
 Born as ghosts

 Born as ghosts

 One book and forty ghosts
 Stuffed in a room
 The school as a tomb
 Where home is a wasteland
 Take the razor wire
 And thought is locked in the womb
 The tales that tear at the myth of the dream
 A suffering that shocks the lives off the screen

 Born as ghosts