I sat within the valley green, I sat me with my true love
my sad heart strove the two between, the old love and the new one.
the old for her the new that makes me think on Ireland dearly
while soft the wind blew down the glade
and shook the golden barley.
"Then wind that shakes the barley"
words by Dr. Robert Dwyer Joyce
arranged by Dead Can Dance
The man said it's not my fault
his trigger didn't fail
fiction of warfare is the game of children
these bonfires burn my hope
Politics said it's not our fault
but talks are meaningless now
we sing our day will come
these bombs maim my hope