As blood drips slowly from the hands
of monstrous men from foreign lands,
we bow our heads and wring our hands
but the song it never changes.

The lyrics speak of death and fright,
the guns by day, the bombs by night,
another mother's soul takes flight
but the song it never changes.

As tempo builds, hear the melody swell,
a million babies born to hell,
we hear the slowly tolling bell
but the song it never changes.

The mortars crash, the weapons roar
to soothe vain men from distant shores
who'll never know the price of war
but the song it never changes.