There's a cross on the road, there's a great mill turnin'
Some seekin' answers, some are born with answers
You can hold on to the blade and turn around forever
Be flung into space into another kind of grace
Who stands guard for each other?
Why must we guard anything at all?
Anything at all
Some give up their hands, some give up their land
Some give up their life, there in the fields of green
Stops life all around you but yet you, you will cut someone down
For all their possessions, some material thing
And our children they're being blown away by wishes in the wind
For the sake of their coat or the colors of their coat
Or the color of their skin or the name of their shoes
And the mother cries, "Why are they takin' my son?"
And the father wonders, why they've taken my boy
He extended his hand, he gave him his land
He gave him his bread, he gave him his heart
Said, hello friend, hello friend, hello friend, hello friend
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