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The walls do not fall willingly No matter their prayers and tears No matter how many circles they march No matter a ram’s horn ringing in their ears Ghosts stand on the far side of the river Waiting for their brothers to be together Brothers who dream of crossing the Jordan Brothers who dream only of their character It is for their children that they walk towards the sun It is the God we pray to who made deserts for men They see the sun set though blue is what colors their skies But the songs they sing have become red once again
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Jun 19, 2015
Jun 19, 2015 at 10:59 PM UTC
The Reds
The walls do not fall willingly No matter their prayers and tears No matter how many circles they march No matter a ram’s horn ringing in their ears Ghosts stand on the far side of the river Waiting for their brothers to be together Brothers who dream of crossing the Jordan Brothers who dream only of their character It is for their children that they walk towards the sun It is the God we pray to who made deserts for men They see the sun set though blue is what colors their skies But the songs they sing have become red once again
mark-lecuona
Written by
American
Jun 19, 2015
Jun 19, 2015 at 10:59 PM UTC
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