You are the brave who do not break
In the grip oft he mob when the blow comes straight
To the shattered bone, when the sockets shriek;
When your arms lie twisted under your back

Good men holding their courage slack
In their frightened pockets see how weak
The work that is done – and feel the weight
Of your blood on the ground for their spirits sake;

And build their anger, stone
on stone Each silently, but not alone.

 

Text: Raymond Patterson
Musik: Peter A. Bauer

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