Six million souls lost to thin air
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Are wandering the earth again
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Lives, not numbers
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All these ghosts, sons of mothers
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History is empty arms
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It's just one thing after another
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And slowly we follow behind our boys
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One day I'll have a child of my own
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How will I tell him, oh
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This world, this world it is a good place?
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How will I hide the fear from my face?
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How do you sleep with all that you've done?
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Sending somebody else's son to die
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For things no one believes in
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Saluting your own charade
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As we line up in this heartless parade
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History Boys
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| Nerina Pallot |
