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SONS OF Song

 
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SONS OF Sons of the thief, sons of the saint

Who is the child with no complaint



Sons of the great or sons unknown

All were children like your own

The same sweet smiles, the same sad tears

The cries at night, the nightmare fears

Sons of the great or sons unknown

All were children like your own...

So long ago: long, long, ago...

But sons of tycoons or sons of the farms

All of the children ran from your arms

Through fields of gold, through fields of ruin

All of the children vanished too soon

In tow'ring waves, in walls of flesh

Among dying birds trembling with death

Sons of tycoons or sons of the farms

All of the children ran from your arms...

So long ago: long, long, ago...

But sons of your sons or sons passing by

Children we lost in lullabies

Sons of true love or sons of regret

All of the sons you cannot forget

Some built the roads, some wrote the poems

Some went to war, some never came home

Sons of your sons or sons passing by

Children we lost in lullabies...

So long ago: long, long, ago

But, sons of the thief, sons of the saint

Who is the child with no complaint

Sons of the great or sons unknown

All were children like your own

The same sweet smiles, the same sad tears

The cries at night, the nightmare fears

Sons of the great or sons unknown

All were children like your own...

Like your own, like your own
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