| Sons of the thief, sons of the saint
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| Who is the child with no complaint
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| Sons of the great or sons unknown
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| All were children like your own
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| The same sweet smiles and the same sad tears
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| The cries at night, the nightmare fears
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| Sons of the great, sons unknown
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| All were children like yourown
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| So long ago
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| But sons of tycoons or sons of the farm
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| All of their children run from your arms
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| Through fields of gold through fields of ruin
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| All of their chidren vanish too soon
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| In towering waves in walls of flesh
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| Among dying birds trembling with death
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| Sons of tycoons or sons of the farms
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| All of their children run from your arms
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| Sons of your sands or sons passing by Children we lost in a lullaby
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| Sons of true love and sons of regret
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| All of their sons you cannot forget
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| Some build the roads, some wrote the poems
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| Some went to war, some never came home
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| Sons of your sons orsons passing by Children we lost in a lullaby
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| So long ago, long, long ago |