Bombs Fall - Plowshare

I see the light of a million corpses burning warm in collective graves

Troops of doom are bringing us the reprimand it’s god’s command

Pregnant moms are giving birth to burst sons: their hope is dead

I see the light of a million corpses burning warm in collective graves

Troops of doom are bringing us the reprimand it’s god’s command

Bombs fall!

Children’s fate being mutilated, orphan legs seeking owner’s trunk

Owner’s trunk, that doesn’t belong to a soldier or a sergeant of the armies of

the world

In fact the owner is a victim: noisy bombs dig yards of tombs

Dead hope

I see the light of a million corpses burning warm in collective graves

Troops of doom are bringing us the reprimand it’s god’s command

Bombs fall!