The fathers of past time cry for us
their trades and beliefs lay shattered,
their dreams and hopes abandoned
why we ask?
The sword and mind lay broken
the gun and lust rape the hearts of pure men,
wives and children lay ravished
the power is here, why we ask?
I say the daunting words, I cry a river, I dream a father.
The streams dried up
my tears will stay,
As what is pure and right we need never ask.