Hey Lord, is it really? We´ll make something out of ourselves? Something out of ourselves? Well, I hope so…
Hey Lord, is it needed? To kill all mothers' sons? To kill all mothers' sons? Well I don´t think so…
There´ll be a time, when we shall pull down the kite To look at our next 's eyes Or we can keep pretending, We're climbing up the stairs To the heaven of our dreams
