Smoke is coming from the trains nRunning past the graves of our families. nAnother winter coats them grey. nThe Christian kids spit on our shoes. nA rootless cosmopolitan came up through the cracks nOf a dirty Warsaw sidewalk and knew all about those tracks nnThat carried cattle cars that weren’t filled with cattle. nOr any room for anyone to sit. nAnd the rumors filtered through the brick wall nAnd of course the papers were all full of shit. nnWe always lived in this city, nFor as long as I remember, which isn’t long at all. nThen the Nazis moved us into the ghetto. nOctober 1940, the next month they built the wall. nAnd those putzes tried to starve us nAnd have us die in the streets. nBut I'm not gonna bow to no occupying forces nAnd my life isn’t cheap. nnI joined the youth movement worked the soup kitchen and the underground school. nI played a fiddle for the revolution, too. nI collected bottles in the basement, nFor an inevitable engagement. nAnd in June, 1942 they snatched 300,000 Jews nThey all caught the Zyklon B blues. nThe word flew through the street nThat we’re gonna die, so we might as well do it on our feet. nnAnd we were ready when they came for the rest of us nWith Kosher for Passover Molotov cocktails. nAnd we didn’t fill their quotas and we didn’t fill their trains nAnd some Nazis even caught some bullets in their brains. nnThe Nazis destroyed our ghetto and we never thought they wouldn’t, nBut the point is we all rose up when everybody thought we couldn’t. nAnd all you’ve got in this world is your life, your love, your dignity. nSo what you gonna do when someone takes away all three? nnAnd I don’t have a name. nNot one that you could repeat. nI’m just a ghost of a kid you’ll never meet nCalling you to play out in the street. n