Amid all the tense moments of our lives,
We are the same old people living
In the same old home
Of a million years old.
Breathing the same air,
The same water nourishing our veins;
We are but a crowd
Estranged in this universal plain,
Upon a small blue planet, called home.
Even if we destroy it,
The loss is ours;
If we were to kill each other,
The loss is ours.
Poisoning the only air we have,
We are going to curse our own generations;
And while dirtying the streets where we walk,
We are dirtying our very own home.
What else do we have
Than this small speck of a sphere called Earth?
We can live nowhere else;
We would die everywhere else.
Our delicate hearts can only beat
On this small patch of dust.
Were we to bomb it down,
We have no place else called a ‘shelter’.