Il est parti

His skin's too pale, hair's gone gray
He drags his feet, dragging his life away.
In his memory, it's a black hole, a rainy day.
They told him about paradise
Said cross the border, it’s better than here.
And he left
He walked away from the sun and all his friends
Fixing the last image in his red-rimmed eyes
Of his homeland.
And he left
His heart filled with hope and pain too
Of his kids' faces, those yellowed photos
He left.
Here he’s just a stranger
Someone to be wary of
And many nights, he wishes he could stop crying.
He’s kept deep in his heart
All the tenderness and warmth
A memory of a certain image of his happiness.