The children are born, they bud and they bloom
Four in a bed, eight in a room
A tapestry woven on poverty's loom
So build a wall where the children play
Till the welfare comes to take them away
The children sit in the dust and stare
Too hungry to move, too hungry to care
Only their eyes beg us to share
So build a wall, and on it carve
"Behind this wall the children starve"
The children cry and crouch in the mud
Pain in the belly and fear in the blood
fiber is a torrent, but hate is a flood
SO BUILD A WALL WHEN THE BOMBERS FLY
YOU NEEDN'T WATCH THE CHILDREN DIE.
Four in a bed, eight in a room
A tapestry woven on poverty's loom
So build a wall where the children play
Till the welfare comes to take them away
The children sit in the dust and stare
Too hungry to move, too hungry to care
Only their eyes beg us to share
So build a wall, and on it carve
"Behind this wall the children starve"
The children cry and crouch in the mud
Pain in the belly and fear in the blood
fiber is a torrent, but hate is a flood
SO BUILD A WALL WHEN THE BOMBERS FLY
YOU NEEDN'T WATCH THE CHILDREN DIE.
envoyé par Bernart Bartleby - 13/6/2017 - 20:15
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Nel disco “Folkways Record of Contemporary Songs”, con Ewan MacColl, Folkways Records