| December nineteen thirty-seven. | |
| A cold winter that heaven has forgotten | |
| These yellow pictures, they take me back to the scene where there was fire | |
| Filled with horror, and such anger | |
| I came in the past just to watch the city burn | |
| I could still hear her cries in the air through black and white | |
| Don't you remember | |
| How they tied her | |
| How they stripped her and whipped her | |
| Why can't you recall | |
| How she fought until her life was over | |
| Open up your blinded eyes | |
| Look out of the wall | |
| Stop buying | |
| All their stupid lies | |
| Pictures tell stories differently | |
| In a way you've never imagined | |
| There was fire | |
| Fill with horror | |
| And such anger | |
| I came in the past just to watch the city burn | |
| Do you hear | |
| Her cries in the air | |
| Through black and white? | |
| Don't you remember | |
| How they tied her | |
| How they stripped her and whipped her | |
| Why can't you recall | |
| How she fought until her life was over | |
| Time passes on by | |
| Memory dies | |
| Oh someone tell me why | |
| Don't lie to me | |
| Keep it in your head | |
| Cause history is never yours to decide | |
| Don't you remember | |
| How they tied her | |
| How they stripped her and whipped her | |
| Why can't you recall | |
| How she fought until her life was over |
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