Muranow
I. They built the townhouses on your burial mounds They dug up your ashes from out of the grounds Ground your bones into mortar to plaster the walls It's little surprise that you've haunted us all When nothing remained they laid down a new grid If the pattern is altered then the ghost's will stay hid No old streets to wander no old haunts to roam but the ghosts of the ghetto call the townhouses home They died in the cellars They died in the streets They died on their hands and they died on their feet They died in the city and in the camps, too And their ghosts keep returning to haunt me and you II. A sea of humanity withered away These streets at a glance seem barren today But when you glimpse in the shadows the sea will appear The waves of their spirits still hauntingly near When at last liquidate...