Ballad of Saed Bannoura

Saed Bannoura is a friend of mine
But I’m lucky to know him, to be sure
He is from a land called Palestine
From the town of Beit Sahur
His house was a mile from where Jesus was born
And a mile from a military base
He grew up under occupation
Such a lovely town but such a terrifying place

When the First Intifada started Saed was facing off with tanks
So many of the youth then became martyrs
And Saed almost joined their ranks
He was running from a death squad
Soldiers shot him in the chest and in the back
They shot him six timеs altogether
But Saed said you guys just don’t havе the knack

He wouldn’t die, he wouldn’t die
They tried hard to kill him
But he just spat in their eye
He wouldn’t die, he wouldn’t die, he wouldn’t die

A soldier came and kicked him to turn him over
A blow that broke four of his bones
A local doctor ran to try to help him
The soldiers said you leave him alone
It was hours before they took him
To hospital where he got surgery
But after they cut out half his lung
And patched him back together most sloppily

He wouldn’t die, he wouldn’t die
They tried hard to kill him
But he just spat in their eye
He wouldn’t die, he wouldn’t die, he wouldn’t die

To stop the intifada
They tried different strategies
First they tried packing the prisons
Then they tried brutalilty
Neither one of these things worked
So they tried assassination
But now he’s sitting right in front of me
Working at his station

Yes they tried to kill Saed Bannoura
And they succeeded with so many more
But now Saed is a citizen of Portland
My neighbor, by the Willamette River shore
And now Saed is a journalist
Reporting from his wheelchair
Though twenty years ago he took six bullets
Which was quite a lot more than his share

He wouldn’t die, he wouldn’t die
They tried hard to kill him
But he just spat in their eye
He wouldn’t die, he wouldn’t die, he wouldn’t die