Our homes are in us
Brussels is only our place
Our true homes, thus
Live inside us – cosy a space.

Our spirits they are torn
Shaky, and sometimes just lost
Brussels isn’t where we were born
But its jobs pay all our cost.

Our loves are long broken
Weird were they – always so blue
From each we keep a token
After they came to a clue.

Our tongue belongs to no land
All-world words make Eurospeak
It’s only us who fully comprehend
Though understanding we all seek.

Our lives are odd zig-zags
Labyrinths, edgy, without any signs
Our inner homes have no flags
But shapes, colours – all kinds.

Our homes are in us
Brussels is only our place
Capital of the homeless, thus
For us the onliest space.