Flux of Pink Indians - Song for ThemLyrics

The wind blows, the baby cries People die, their deaths are untold Land is desolate, nothing here grows People living, for the sight of a food bowl Trapped in an existence, it's hard to think Such people really exist, hard to believe Their plight is accepted When money so wasted could be redirected They're not some race that don't feel pain Stravation is something you don't become immune to