Sometimes justice comes for those yet unborn, so that their eyes never face the light,
So they never experience hate, or hurt, or doom or dread,
But for those of us left alive, justice is like dark whispers in the dead of night
A rumour of friendly spirits turned to dust, a dream, a wish… the wind.
Sometimes justice comes in our imagination, a hope of victory, a hope of vengeance,
A hope of retribution for bloodshed, a hope of peace from pain,
But sometimes justice comes for those who sleep, who eyes will never see another dawn
Sometimes justice comes for those lost to life, sometimes justice comes for the departed.
So we dream of justice for a generation lost in the waters,
Justice of those whose song was snatched from their mouths,
Justice for interrupted dreams,
Justice for those who live in the shadows,
Justice for the bodies, whose souls were stolen in silence,
Justice for those lost in battle, justice for those living with hate
Justice for those felled by the hands they loved,
Justice for the forgotten, justice for the absent, justice for the silent.
We dream of justice,
We fight for justice,
We live for justice,
Because sometimes, sometimes…justice comes