CHORUS
Lily ladies of Lebanon,
Lay a flower on the grave of another woman's son.
Haven't enough people died?
Haven't enough mother's cried?
Too many little eyes look up and don't see love,
Too many little eyes look up and don't see a God above.
It doesn't matter whose side you're on,
The reasons for winning have long since gone.
Can we stop it? Can we save humanity?
Or is it just too late for you and me?

There's a field of flowers where beauty no longer lies,
Circles of earth remind us where each child dies.
There's a place in downtown Tel Aviv with scars to show,
The music stopped playing and joy left there long ago.
It's not what you say no one's listening anymore,
They're busy cleaning the blood stains from the floor.
Kids walk into classrooms wearing a gun,
And blow away their playmates just for fun.

CHORUS

A businessman sits on the bar stool watching the news,
Going home later to give his wife one more bruise.
There's a soldier on the line terrified of doing his job,
There's another nearby with a grenade ready to lob.
A politician stands up, tells the world that it's real sad,
But does nothing to stop the daughter from losing her dad.
There's a man with a heavy black coat getting on a bus,
But try as he might can't get a dime from one of us.

CHORUS

A sacred man in a cloistered robe prays to the One,
Hoping no one else saw him or will tell what he's done.
A youngster with so much promise is taken in by the lie,
Straps on a jacket full of death and prepares himself to die.
Far too young a lady carries a bundle to the trash pail,
She walks away and sheds a tear as the baby starts to wail.
The writer writes these words down of a song that won't be sung,
No heart will ever hear it, no good will ever come from.

REFRAIN
Can we stop and take a listen,
to the silence in our hearts?
It's people that we're killing,
and it's tearing us apart.

The madness's all that's left us,
our souls have lost the fight,
We can no longer see the reasons,
or tell our wrongs from right.

Must more blood shed in anger,
be our calling card?
Not long 'til we're in danger,
of our hearts remaining hard.

CHORUS

tags: poetry  

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