we fall so far that the first sign of light
awakens us to shaking and to pain
not ready but we face it all again
there was no comfort in the arms of night
we got it wrong so gelid is our plight
yet these are things that no one need explain
each is quite normal not a one's arcane
for suffering's a universal rite
what each must do is take up the hard load
of human courage as if it were new
and clasp it tightly without much regret
accept that this is one rough stony road
that comes with  sorrow and no good long view
and all is paid with labour and cold sweat

name after name recorded on the wall
a sombre history of the long crime
against us all now fading into time
made by those giants who to us seem small
through urgent years when little could appal
our fervent thoughts when worlds were at their prime
(so we believed) yet we feared the dark slime
that seemed to lurk awaiting our long fall
now it’s the turn of those who would proclaim
a better day and shout it very loud
so even the ancestors could rejoice
but we who are uncertain of our flame
no longer urgent and no more as proud
are not so eager to exalt our voice

there are deep echoes across the dry wall
so sky seems brassy and bereft of cloud
while goat is nimble and tempts you to fall

to stony death where no one will recall
how once you were so youthful and so proud
there are deep echoes across the dry wall

where the old vultures circle seeing all
the land below them forested or ploughed
while goat is nimble and tempts you to fall

from narrow path your heart now seems so small
and fate so large the silence seems so loud
there are deep echoes across the dry wall

the distant birds across the sky now scrawl
in ragged letters on the small puffy cloud
while goat is nimble and tempts you to fall

into forever certain none will bawl
the earth itself will be your only shroud
there are deep echoes across the dry wall
while goat is nimble and tempts you to fall

where no salvation comes from a dead lord
we're cast adrift and there's no guiding star
no symbol serves to act as luminar
and we have taken a strange one aboard
as sign and seal in these realms unexplored
of all our dangers yet we're not so far
beyond the norms of everyday devoir
but have paid more than mortals can afford
we asked for honesty and got hard stone
straight in the face nothing could be so plain
but to push onward is the single choice
that folk of honour have bred in the bone
regardless of the threat of lash and chain
or whether the old villains will rejoice

no count of years may still the hand of fate
but yet the kindly sunrise eases pain
as those who fought arise to fight again
with little rancour and without debate
for once removed the horrors cease to grate
on any soul and there’s no longer strain
when each of us can see the future plain
and know that we’re the owners of the state
this is the promise made by those who sleep
beneath our soil whose lives gave ours full worth
that a bright morning would our people see
not as a flock of tired and hungry sheep
but as a folk in fullest time of mirth
enjoying every taste of liberty

so all we hear today is cannons’ boom
their echo forms our terrible surround
for this whole century the world’s a tomb

it isn’t that we just ran out of room
for good intentions our shots will redound
so all we hear today is cannons’ boom

from shore to shore and the explosives’ bloom
accompanied by their pervading sound
for this whole century the world’s a tomb

though skies are sunny we are cast in gloom
parents and children thrown into the mound
so all we hear today is cannons’ boom

perhaps in time some scholar will exhume
the reason why we all now lie in ground
for this whole century the world’s a tomb

and every hope has fallen down to doom
while goodness trust and honesty are bound
so all we hear today is cannons’ boom
for this whole century the world’s a tomb

those who have measured the true depths of hate
are never guided by the maps we know
nor by the compass or the starry show
at height of darkness that is not their fate
on the long journey for they won’t debate
the terrors or the pains there is no blow
so hard it will detain them the great flow
of history inspires them not to wait
there’s a reminder that we learn the ways
when we are children and the early signs
of wisdom we dismiss as so much guff
yet we return when we’ve fulfilled the days
of hardest learning and worked in the mines
discovering at last we’re not so tough