| To whom can I speak today
|
| The brothers they are equal
|
| But the old friends of today
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| They have become unlovable
|
| To whom can I speak today
|
| The gentleness has perished
|
| And the violent man has come down on everyone
|
| To whom can I speak today
|
| The wrong which roams the earth
|
| There can be no end to it It is just unstoppable
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| Death is in my sights today
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| As when a man desires
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| To see home after many years in jail
|
| February through December
|
| We have such a tragic year
|
| As separate as the fingers
|
| Suddenly — as one — as the hand
|
| And the violent man has come down on everyone
|
| And the violent man has come down on everyone |