Mud caked our Converse
As we sat on the bridge
With our legs hanging free
The water roared below us
And above us swayed the olive tree
Here we go to escape our cuts
Here we go to flee
For the East Wind cannot reach us here
We are shielded
From the pain and fear
When the mud cakes our Converse
Under the olive tree
We will sit
Hand in hand
And we will be free...
Until we fall.