Nodding tho the lamp's lit low, nod for passers underground.
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To and fro she's darning, and the land is weeping red and pale.
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Weeping yarn from Algiers. Weeping yarn from Algiers.
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Weaving tho the eyes are pale, what will rend will also mend.
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The sifting cloth is binding, and the dream she weaves will never end.
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For we're marching toward Algiers. For we're marching toward Algiers.
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Lullaby tho baby's gone. Lullaby a broken song.
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Oh, the cradle was our call. When it rocked we carried on.
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And we marched on toward Algiers. For we're marching toward Algiers
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We're still marching for Algiers. Marching, marching for Algiers.
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Not to hail a barren sky. Sifting cloth is weeping red.
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The mourning veil is waving high a field of stars and tears we've shed.
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In the sky a broken flag, children wave and raise their arms.
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We'll be gone but they'll go on and on and on and on and on.
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Broken Flag
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| Patti Smith |
