In Babylon she cries in red
In Babylon her stains of blood
And wine falls from fountains for us
In Babylon the streets are red

And Babylon she screams for more
Outside every shelter's door
And Babylon lifts her thighs
To the hot air and incense skies

Juvenile faces mixed in mud
How sweet our sorrows go
And Babylon today has wept
Tomorrow is on her feet again

And mark well, the faces in the street
The priest in passersby
And be gracious to everyone you meet
And we will love before we die