Ashes remain, of the house she called her summer peace
Hands are stained, blistered and burned from fighting heat
and they stay, day after day, and sing out defeat
Like a fish stuck in a treacherous net
or a bird trapped in a snare
so an end befalls all men, unprepared
Can you tame the fire?
Can you breathe its smoke?
We could not that Friday morning, as we lost someone we love
We screamed Wanda, Wanda, yell out if you can hear me
Wanda, Wanda, yell out if you can breathe
Wanda, Wanda, yell out if you can hear me
And we prayed that this was all a bad dream
Look not to tomorrow
Look not back on yesterday
or you shall see the sorrow, if you miss today
