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Sons of the thief, sons of the saint
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Who is the child with no complaint
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Sons of the great or sons unknown
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All were children like your own
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The same sweet smiles, the same sad tears
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The cries at night, the nightmare fears
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Sons of the great, sons unknown
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All were children like your own...
�But sons of tycoons or sons of the farms
�All of the children ran from your arms
�Through fields of gold, through fields of ruin
�All of the children vanished too soon
�In tow'ring waves, in walls of flesh
�Among dying birds trembling with death
�Sons of tycoons or sons of the farms
�All of the children ran from your arms...
�But sons of your sons or sons passing by
�Children we lost in lullabies
�Sons of true love or sons of regret
�All of the sons you cannot forget
�Some built the roads, some wrote the poems
�Some went to war, some never came home
�Sons of your sons or sons passing by
�Children we lost in lullabies...
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