Descending leaves gather in the street,
Kicked aside by the children's feet.
The pumpkin's candle melts away,
Not just another autumn day.
The children's souls stirring in the breeze
Comes alive with the burning leaves.
That sadness that the parents feel
Because of blood spilled on this sacred hill.
One hundred years ago this day,
The children were all stole away.
As the night air stood so still,
They slayed them all on gypsy hill.
One hundred years ago this day,
The children were all stole away.
As the night air stood so still,
They slayed them all on gypsy hill.
Descending leaves gather in the street,
Kicked aside by the children's feet.
The pumpkin's candle melts away,
Not just another autumn day.
The children's souls stirring in the breeze
Comes alive with the burning leaves.
That sadness that the parents feel
Because of blood spilled on this sacred hill.
One hundred years ago this day,
The children were all stole away.
As the night air stood so still,
They slayed them all on gypsy hill.
One hundred years ago this day,
The children were all stole away.
As the night air stood so still,
They slayed them all on gypsy hill.
One hundred years ago this day,
The children were all stole away.
As the night air stood so still,
They slayed them all on gypsy hill.
One hundred years ago this day,
The children were all stole away.
As the night air stood so still,
They slayed them all on gypsy hill.