The Circle

Written about Layla Al-Atar, a cherished Iraqi artist who was killed when a missile struck her home, instead of its intended target, a building where a trial was taking place concerning the assassination attempt of George Bush snr. The missiles were fired by the Clinton government.
And for the Argentinean disappeared, Los Olvidados.

Who killed this woman this artist this mother?
Who broke the candle and snuffed out her light
Along with her husband and wounded her children
And sauntered away like a beast in the night?

"Not I" said the soldier
"I just follow orders and it was my duty to do my job well"
"Not I" said the leader who ordered the slaughter
"Im saddened it happened, but then, war is hell"

"Not us" said the others who heard of the horror
Turned a cold shoulder on all that was done
In all the confusion a single conclusion
The circle of sorrow has only begun

And in Argentina...

Straight to the circle on Sundays
Down through the canyons they come
Bearing names of their mothers and daughters
Names of their fathers and sons

Stolen away with no warning, never to ever return
On el Rio del Muerto, All the bridges are burned
Los desaparecidos, lost in the darkness alone
Gone from the face of the earth
With no trace left behind them to mark with a stone
And the faces of Los Olvidados, only survivors recall
But for the pain and the heartbreak, did they matter at all?

Slowly the circle of sadness, spins in the Plaza Mayor
Lonesome remains of the madness and pain
In a world gone insane in a war

And the song of those broken survivors, dancing alone in the dark
With the silence of Los Olvidados, like a hole in the heart

Los desaparecidos, lost in the darkness alone
Gone from the face of the earth
With no trace left behind them to mark with a stone
And the faces of Los Olvidados, only survivors recall
But for the pain and the heartbreak, did they matter at all?