He is rotting in jail,
For no fault done
Where is justice for this boy
Crying from this den
He never killed
He knew nothing

One evening,
my little son made a trip
To visit his friend on the other side
Yes ,that part of the highlands
Heavily it was raining
He had to run as fast as an hare

He landed on the highland
Wearly he felt
His clothes too heavy surpassing diamond
He called loudly at the door
No voice was heard

The door he pushed
Entering the room
What a hell!
His friend lied on the ground
Blood, blood everywhere!

He had to flew
All because of fear
Later on the police followed him along
At the court they judged him of murder
Where is justice?