| The hands are reaching for the bright black morning light
|
| Our leader down on his knees right before our eyes
|
| And suddenly
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| We’re coming home
|
| We’re growing strong
|
| We’re coming home again
|
| All though this little wonder
|
| And all of you
|
| Destroyed with nothing but a stone or two
|
| Lay down your sword this boy turned gold from blue
|
| Before the men take off your crown, be true
|
| The arrows float over us
|
| So hear the children play
|
| The same old song
|
| The same old plan
|
| And hear the old folks pray
|
| Because then you’ll understand that
|
| The sun will shine
|
| The rain will fall
|
| The sun will shine again
|
| All through this little wonder
|
| And all of you
|
| Destroyed with nothing but a stone or two
|
| Lay down your sword this boy turned gold from blue
|
| Before the men take off your crown, be true
|
| The arrows float over us |