Six million souls lost to thin air Are wandering the earth again Lives, not numbers
All these ghosts, sons of mothers History is empty arms It's just one thing after another And slowly we follow behind our boys
One day I'll have a child of my own How will I tell him, oh This world, this world it is a good place? How will I hide the fear from my face?
How do you sleep with all that you've done? Sending somebody else's son to die For things no one believes in Saluting your own charade As we line up in this heartless parade
