| All of the daddies were weathered
|
| All of the mommas were torn
|
| Still the whole village came in their finest to see
|
| What could possibly be born
|
| Out of a house divided, in a world so brutal and maimed
|
| But then we saw the kids and found ourselves saying
|
| We’re gonna make it up to you
|
| Every day of our life
|
| We’re gonna make it up
|
| We’re gonna get this right
|
| Some people held their daddy’s guns
|
| Me, I hung mine on the wall
|
| For every war, we could have won
|
| Without shooting them at all
|
| Is this the best we could muster?
|
| Custer or just prayers for the slain
|
| I wanna get this right and not the same old thing
|
| I wanna make this up to you
|
| Every day of my life
|
| I wanna make this up
|
| I wanna get this right
|
| Born of privilege, born of none
|
| Hunger, disease, it’s all a gun
|
| Clean your plate kid, I want you to understand
|
| The isolation we breed, the hunger in Yemen
|
| It’s your first lock down, you’re so young
|
| But so are the kids under the barrel bombs
|
| It’s the evil we helped let loose, it’s what we’ve become
|
| It’s all a gun, it’s all a gun
|
| I don’t know where we come from, what I know is that we ain’t done
|
| We got the river running, we got the animal cunning
|
| The back of a turtle, the Garden of Eden, the cosmic dust
|
| Why do we keep on gunning?
|
| I got no use for these ramparts, ivory towers or the lines in the sand
|
| I think enough of the time, we want the same thing
|
| We gonna make it up to you
|
| Every day of our lives
|
| We wanna make it up
|
| We wanna get this right |