| The sun was hot and the air was heavy and the marching men came by
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| You stood at the door and you watched then pass you asked the reason why
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| The sound of steel on their Jackboot heel came pounding through your head
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| Your reason is past, they’ve come at last, with the blessings of the dead
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| Hey Sandy, hey Sandy why are you the one?
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| All the years of growing up are wasted now and gone
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| Did you see them turn did you feel the burn of the bullets as they flew?
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| Hey Sandy, hey Sandy just what did you do?
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| At the college square they were standing there with flag and with the gun
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| And the whispered words as the young ones stirred, why are these things done
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| And the air was still with the lonely thrill of now the hour is near
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| And the smell of sweat was better yet than the awful smell of fear
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| The awful shout as you all ran out, why are these things done
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| And you stood and stared yet no one cared for another campus bum
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| Your songs are dead and your hymns instead are to the funeral pyre
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| And the words of youth, like love and truth are just ashes on the fire
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| Did you throw the stone at the men alone with their bayonets fixed for hire?
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| Did you think that they would kill no one did you scream as they opened fire?
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| As the square ran red with your bloodstains spread and the darkness round you
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| grew
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| Did you feel the pain did you call the name of the man that you never knew? |