Too many believe
In some «master plan»
’cause it’s hard to accept
What’s not shapen by hand.
But here, under the sun,
Where events can’t be undone;
Once superstition’s spent —
You gotta know,
We want our brothers back.
The hurt came down
From the clear blue sky.
The sands of time
Went rushing by.
It came as a shock,
We’d shut our eyes.
