| There are rifles buried in the countryside for the rising of the moon
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| May they lie there long forgotten till they rust away into the ground
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| Who will bend this ancient hatred, will the killing to an end
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| Who will swallow long injustice, take the devil for a country man
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| Who will say «this far no further, oh lord, if I die today»
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| Send no weapons no more money. |
| send no vengeance across the seas
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| Missing brothers, martyred fellows, silent children in the ground
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| Could we but hear them could they not tell us
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| «time to lay god’s rifle down»
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| Who will say this far no further, oh lord, if I die today. |