Where Are The Children

[Verse 1]
Morning bus stop
Tiny shoes on the curb
Names on plastic lunchboxes
Faces pressed to the glass
One doesn’t come home
Coat on the hook
Room still messy
Bed still warm
We say
“Probably a mix-up
Probably a phone
Probably fine”
But the plate gets cold
The dog keeps staring
The doorframe leans
Waiting
[Chorus]
Where are the children
Who took their laughter out the yard
Who folded up the hopscotch chalk
Who emptied every swing in the park
Where are the children
Why does the silence feel rehearsed
Who’s taking our children
Will we ever see them again
[Verse 2]
Posters on the lamp posts
Printer ink running in the rain
Same question in different fonts
“Have you seen…?”
Screens glow blue at midnight
Comments pile like flowers
“Praying”
“Sharing”
Scroll
Forget
Police lines
Traffic cones
Flashing colors on wet asphalt
Neighbors whisper on their porches
Lock one more bolt on the door
We tell ourselves old stories
“When we were kids
We rode our bikes till dark
We came back”
But the world shifted
Street by street
Click by quiet click
And nobody heard the latch
[Chorus]
Where are the children
Who took their drawings off the fridge
Who left their games stuck on pause
Who never finished second grade
Where are the children
Why does the silence feel rehearsed
Who’s taking our children
Will we ever see them again
[Bridge]
Is it a stranger in a hallway
A trusted smile at the gate
A car that slows
Just long enough
Is it a system built on looking away
On “not my problem”
On “not my kid”
How many red flags
Folded into paper planes
Thrown in the dark
[Chorus]
Where are the children
Call their names till your throat breaks
Hang their faces on our conscience
Till the whole sky starts to shake
Where are the children
Why does the silence sound like consent
Who’s taking our children
Will we ever see them again
[Outro]
Count the empty chairs at dinner
Count the backpacks by the door
Say their names
Out loud
Again
Where are the children
(Where are the children)

Sparse spoken-word over ominous drone and low percussion swells, male vocals close-mic’d and intimate. Sub-bass pulses like a distant heartbeat; occasional piano clusters and reversed textures rise beneath key phrases. Chorus brings layered whispers and a slightly wider stereo field, then everything drops to near-silence for the final line. Dark, cinematic tension that never fully resolves., world, spoken word, male vocals