Thus we sing -3-

Inevitably, they are still waiting.
Well, here I am ready to go back to the land of milk and honey.
But, what is all this destruction? How has the Cactus been covered with blood and dust, how?
Oh, Lord! Where are they? Aren t they used to wait for me in the streets singing..?
Well, I ll look for them. It, may be a good surprise.
The more I look around, the more I wonder. I start looking
for a glimmer of hope.
From afar, I see an illuminated room. It looks like a big cage.
My shadow beats me to it. I stand nailed to the transparent door
looking inside.
Uh, here they are. A group of them is sitting on the right and another on the left, each behind a machine. Images keep flashing while sound effects of shots and noise rise until reaching the far spots of the Earth.
No one notices me.
I knock on the glassy barrier. My heart rejoices:
- Dear children, I am here. Here, loaded with toys...
No one cares.
An irritated voice asks: Who is this red old man?
A nearby child pulls his eyes away from the screen for a moment in order to play on the guitar of compassion:

– Poor Santa! He is still living the dream of return...

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