The inspiration for this song was an interview on TV by a reporter in Aleppo, Syria. He was talking to a girl in tent city where she had been sent to be safe as the houses were being bombed, but the bombs were still falling. Her little brother was behind her – he may have been about 3 – and was making aeroplanes from his fingers in the air, and his fingers were acting out the dropping bombs. That was his life …
Many thanks to Khalaf Dahowd (in the photo) for these photos which absolutely make the point about the lives of children in refugee camps. They are brave …
That feeling of hopelessness … we tend to try to find something familiar – toast and marmalade, and another cup of tea. It also links to that weird situation when we eat breakfast at the same time as we watch this on the news or read about it the paper.
Toast and Marmalade
I watched the little boy, living in tent city
Must have been just 3, couldn’t have been much more,
His sister talking quickly about the bombing of her family,
It was scary and people she knew died
Ch: While we eat our toast and marmalade
We eat our toast and marmalade,
Yes we eat our toast and marmalade and have another cup of tea.
The little boy flew invisible planes that dropped their deadly weapons
On the houses and the streets where he has played
A hollow look in his eyes, childhood gone in a moment …
Ch: while we eat our toast and marmalade …
His sister’s eyes are shining and she spoke with all her passion
As she told her story to the cameraman
It doesn’t make sense, doesn’t make any sense to her
Doesn’t make sense to me
Ch: so we eat our toast and marmalade …
We leave our children in their tent, stuck in a war zone
Created by fear and greed, and history
The cameraman moves on through the day and we’re left feeling touched,
But pretty useless
Ch: So we eat our toast and marmalade …