No time for love if they come in the morning No time to show fear or for tears in the morning No time for goodbyes, no time to ask why And the wail of the siren is the cry of the morning No time for hate if they come in the morning No time, young mothers, for mourning No time for turning or running away Of the crying young babies in the morning No time to fight back if they come in the morning No time for withdrawal or for hiding No time for reflection of lost dreams and hopes And the wail of the siren is the cry of the morning And the wail of the siren is the cry