The place I was born
Is nothing that I'm proud of
It's chance not competence
So put away your flag
I won't be the wind
That makes it wave
Nations and gods are stories we keep telling
They are long gone
We don't seem to mind
Your borders and passports
They don't identify me
It takes more than a line
More than a sign
So put away
Your colours
They make you look like an idiot
Writer(s): Clara Luzia
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