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