A short story about a boy who grew up listening to the planes, to the bombs, hiding in a bunker when the evil people came.
A creative little boy who would come to write one of the most poignant albums in the history of music; and years later would fly to Israel to do a show and ended up in Palestine.
The little boy refused to play his music in a stadium built on top of an animal cemetery 🪦
In Palestine he found the descendants of the Holocaust knee deep in atrocious behavior: murder, intimidation, ethic cleansing and finally Genocide.
Masters of propaganda, these Israelis leaders of the Forth Reich movement, bestowed on this little boy the brand
ANTISEMITE.
I believed them until my ears and heart hurt with the videos, followed by tears, of the dead, maime and terrified children of Palestine.
Never an album was more appropriate.
