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• Artiste: Marian Kuprat
• Titre: A Mother's Son
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Once there was a time when children went out to play, Now that the shores are red, the doors stay closed today, The sound of happiness streamed through the air, Now they burned this flag and his golden hair, There ain't no dove flying around anymore, Only hammers and nails tearin' down our walls, In this shackeling run, catching up with the sun, watching him jump and gone Does anybody know his name, So we can write it on his grave? Until they shot him with a gun, This boy was just a mother's son The whistle keeps blowin, while the old dog cries, This little girl called truth got raped by those lies, In this dissonant choir of random notes, You can't imagine a chord that speaks of hope, It's all crashing down like planes crash down, It's all gamblin' 'round, just as simple as sounds that you never have found, that you never will find, In our brainwashed minds left behind Does anybody know his name, So we can write it on his grave? Until they shot him with a gun, This boy was just a mother's son Just a child, full of sorrow Who was scared about tomorrow, Lived in fear of his life, This boy was just a mother's son The thief on the green leaf seems to be unseen, Heaves up the prom queen, dancing on the screen, Streams become real mean, unfortunately, A feeling, redeeming our dreams by the leadin' disease that is breathin' through fears won't be healin in years and years