This is not the first time And it won't be the last

This is not the first time
And it won't be the last
We are kicked out of our homes as if we were not her people
It's like we're strangers to her, as if she was never ours.
We have a taste of hell
We slept on the ground, and dust covered us.
We ate beer, we drank tears
And we are still fighting to live.