There it is
That which should not be

But is
The Crimson River
Far away from here
Flowing down the street
Through the rubble and destruction
As a silent witness to the wailing
Against the atrocities
There it is,
That which should not be

But is
The Crimson River
we find our hands covered
In blood that is not ours
Now the Crimson River
Flows down our street
No longer a silent witness
Though we can not hear

What it is telling us
There it is
That which should not be

But is
The Crimson River