Snowballs springing through the air And warm winter smiles... The cheer has returned to the Valley After a long, cold, dreary summer Of heartbreak, blood and the staccato of boots.
The paths lie white And stretch out to me, Ribbons of white hope After crazed despair.
And beneath?
The red of past violence The agony of spilling gore The mutiny of desperate minds And the stillborn hopes of a nation.
I have lost count of my compatriots Who lie in the undersoil.
I stand here, by the door, Gun at the ready. But whose tears are these I weep? Whose smiles I smile? Whose waiting is this I wait? Whose hopes I hope?
I have lost count of my compatriots Who lie in the undersoil.
