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Songs of Hope for Gaza

by Pretty Purgatory

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The lengths to not see starvation The ways I unsee dying children Why does this feel worse than bombs
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The sunbirds sit in the olive trees Vulture hover in the sky Children playing in bombed-out houses Instead of waiting round to die The sunbirds stay When the others go away The sunbirds stay Killing fields for a bag of flour Sniper bullets fall like rain The captors laugh as they cut off power Even the vultures fly to Spain They've killed the cameras, and the operators And their wives and children too Surgeons plead with politicians Who lie; there's nothing they can do The sunbirds stay When the others go away The sunbirds stay Some day survivors, or their descendants Will be allowed to judge too late The gavel echoes; they'll hang some soldiers Who haven't managed to escape There'll be no justice, not in proportion The law is deaf and dumb and blind After the ashes, there will be freedom As the sunbirds keep on flying The sunbirds stay When the others go away The sunbirds stay The sunbirds stay
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The water is filled with plastic The river’s full of blood And I don’t mean to be drastic But it’s coming for us Carolina wren Too small to fight But he can sing a song And I can’t take flight What is it with men Makes them want to die Unwilling to be humbled Though it’s braver to be kind It’s getting hotter But we’re growing cold Don’t know our neighbors Don’t know our souls Found a flightless blue jay Drove it to the refuge Sang along to over the rainbow Moon river too I’ve been cutting flowers I’ve been planting seeds Wish I could do more with this little voice Without having to scream Are you feeling scared because I’m terrified too Stakeholders out to get us What’s there to do The water is filled with plastic The river’s full of blood And I don’t mean to be drastic But it’s coming for us They’re hurting mothers And children alike Telling our students To not use their minds hoping you’ll fear them Enough to stand by Silently watching As all of them die Carolina wren Too small to fight But he can sing a song like you’ve never heard That makes you want to cry Maybe I could sing a song like you’ve never heard
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in a street facing the sea on a slope a cardboard sign a handwritten note of a name unknown ‘he wore a striped shirt, he was fat’ we buried him here to at least give him that we buried him here to at least give him that — o you children turned to ash your name your name a rain the sky cannot take back ( b a c k )
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Where does it go The spirit of a child May the flight be swift A senseless loss To the darkness in us all And the helplessness We need the courage to grieve To bury all the dead And acknowledge what is true To solemnly bow To all life on Earth To walking in peace Our hands are not tied We can speak truth to power And we can reconcile This very hour
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Sun falls on flags Slow bleach to white, the reds and the blues To use as rags To cloak the bruise, and soak the sanguine fluid Would flight lead back To lift aloft beyond the din To bring me home Will I make feathers appear upon my skin Let it go, let it go, let it go The windward shore Exposed to sands, lifted up to scrape and score The stone belief once made of clay, now knocking down a door Let it go, let it go, let it go Would it fade from a liquid red to an ochre unbled sunbird
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reflections songs, like history, often rhyme. When we bring struggle home and in our hearts, we create echoes of dreams that predate us, we carry them best when we do it together. - Ther some days i simply cannot bear the economics of despair when there should be a fire in our hearts and in our hair i would like to keep, with you, and all god's smallest creatures, too, the earth that keeps us upright, and of course, the ocean blue a world where i don't have to ask my mom and dad to wear a mask from what we now call summer flus, and the world made into ash everyone for everyone the united states stops printing guns and prayers ring bright with joy each night across jerusalem we turn our highways into fields til fears of looming famine yield i promise i will be your sword if you will be my shield
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A prayer for every martyr Yes, it's difficult to bear You and me We'll keep singing On the economics of despair The massacres The mask bans stir A summer flu Has turned our lungs to ash America! It's hard to have a dream When you're not allowed to sleep I promise I will be your shield Your sword, comrade In the poison field A righteous wind to push the seeds A world where we can eat America! Buries us and leaves us Nameless, graveless Jesus I know there's a world Where we can breathe You're not on this hill alone We both know that flour does not Constitute a home All occupations seem to us Destined to expire Long live the Intifada's voice Let us raise it ever higher
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what water does to land what man does to nan blood on our hands blood on all of our hands devastation traces lines down the palms of the ones who serve themselves water land power money blood power money blood and the lens is a gun hope like the sun resistance in the make up of water and love water and love from the river to the sea, water rushing Palestine will be free free from blood things
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fracture into two parts what remains of the girl's arm bone she was in the garden with her papa when the bombs fell, she was thrown separate the two parts everyday she's only six years old until there's a three inch limb the prosthetic arm can hold building bombs and artificial arms doctors trained in war wounds it's not complicated
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about

Mission statement by the compilation’s curator, Liza Victoria: 
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“Songs of Hope For Gaza" is a compilation organized as an effort to join together as a music community to write music in solidarity for Palestine. The cover painting and title, is a nod to Bottles of Hope For Gaza, where in Egypt, bottles containing rice, flour, and beans were thrown into sea in hopes that they would reach the shores of Gaza. In organizing this project, I hope to offer encouragement to anyone in the music community, to speak up in song and to utilize our collective power. I believe it is vital to our own hearts, and our lives as artists, to empathize and show empathy to this cause. 

“All of this talking about what’s up in the sky, or down in hell, for that matter, isn’t half as important as what’s right here, right now, right in front of our eyes. Things are tough. Folks broke. Kids hungry. Sick. Everything. And people has just got to have more faith in one another, believe in each other. There’s a spirit of some kind we’ve all got. That’s got to draw us all together.” Woody Guthrie, Bound for Glory.

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100% of proceeds go to ANERA, to support humanitarian aid and emergency relief in Gaza and beyond. For more info, visit www.anera.org.

credits

released October 28, 2025

album art by Chel
mastered by Hamilton Belk
curated by Liza Victoria
co-released by Dear Life Records and Pretty Purgatory

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Pretty Purgatory Portland, Maine

Record Label
Portland, ME, USA
est. 2014

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