Why do I lie awake at night, think back just as far as I can, to the sound of my father’s laugh outdoors, the thought of Sputnik in free-flight?
Before I could fashion my poverty, before I mistrusted the night, I must’ve known something,
I must’ve known something – those were the times I live for tonight.
Why? Why? Why?
I say, “Why? Mama, why?”
Why can’t I sleep in peace tonight underneath the satellite sky?
Why? Why? Why?
I say, “Why? Mama, why?”
Why can’t I sleep in peace tonight underneath the satellite sky?
It can’t be easy for my children: I’m hollow before my time,
It looks like the desert here to me,
Where is the promise of youth for my child?
Where are the faraway kingdoms of dreams?
Been to the moon when there’s trouble at home,
They vanished in the mist with Saint Nicholas, and lie scattered in the ghettos and the war zones.
And why? Why? Why?
I say, “Why? Mama, why?”
Why can’t I sleep in peace tonight underneath the satellite sky?
Why? Why? Why?
I say, “Why? Mama, why?”
Why can’t I sleep in peace tonight underneath the satellite sky?
I want to stand out in the middle of the street, listen to the stars,
I want to hear their sweet voices and I want to feel the big bang rattle my bones,
I want to laugh for my children, want the spark to ignite before they find out what it’s like to be born into these times.
Why? Why? Why?
I say, “Why? Mama, why?”
Why can’t I sleep in peace tonight underneath the satellite sky?
Why? Why? Why?
I say, “Why? Mama, why?”
Why can’t I sleep in peace tonight underneath the satellite sky?
