When soldiers die on battlefields
Leave thee where they lay
Let the bright and burning sun
Their torn young fleeh decay
Until the stench so fills the air
That all the human race must fill its lungs
And gasping cry
“Disgrace, disgrace, disgrace”
Disgrace not just for bodies still
Not just for mortal stink
But for the spirit so controlled
That minds programmed to think
In jerk reaction acting out the age old to and fro
That our traditions have ordained
The way all man must go
And that is wrong
A blasphemy against all creatures of the earth
And dooms each new born thing
From the moment of its birth
All this must change
And change can be
For love exists
It always has
It is for you
It is for me
And if we stop denying it
We all together may agree
To search out and find a peaceful destiny
For if we don't
And still go on with slaughter, hate and pain
The agony will never end
And nothing will remin of human kind or animals
Or sweet green grass
Or oceans deep
And we'll befoul our universe
Then truly will the angels weep
Leave thee where they lay
Let the bright and burning sun
Their torn young fleeh decay
Until the stench so fills the air
That all the human race must fill its lungs
And gasping cry
“Disgrace, disgrace, disgrace”
Disgrace not just for bodies still
Not just for mortal stink
But for the spirit so controlled
That minds programmed to think
In jerk reaction acting out the age old to and fro
That our traditions have ordained
The way all man must go
And that is wrong
A blasphemy against all creatures of the earth
And dooms each new born thing
From the moment of its birth
All this must change
And change can be
For love exists
It always has
It is for you
It is for me
And if we stop denying it
We all together may agree
To search out and find a peaceful destiny
For if we don't
And still go on with slaughter, hate and pain
The agony will never end
And nothing will remin of human kind or animals
Or sweet green grass
Or oceans deep
And we'll befoul our universe
Then truly will the angels weep
inviata da Bernart Bartleby - 31/7/2015 - 13:21
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Parole e musica di Ed McCurdy (1919-2000), folk singer americano noto soprattutto per Last Night I Had The Strangest Dream
Testo trovato su “The CooP” (1982, Vol. 1, No. 1), rivista musicale edita dalla Fast Folk Musical Magazine e ripresa dalla Smithsonian Folkways Recordings