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Downwind there is a comin', |
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A rumble in the sand. |
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Sets our feet to running, |
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For the fear of the faceless man. |
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For the fear of the faceless man. |
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But if I had an arsenal and if it was ten feet tall, |
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Then I would put an end to it all. |
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And if I had wheat to burn, |
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And if I had a lot to learn, |
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Then it still would not matter what color you were. |
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And if I had but one wish on which to stand, |
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I'd wish the weapons all turn to sand. |
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I'd see the gunners watch their empty hands, |
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Fall down to their sides. |
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Downwind they come up lonely, |
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All hungry for the kill. |
|
The horses do the pounding, |
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But it's a blood that's going to spill. |
|
It's a dark blood that's going to spill. |
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But if I had an arsenal and if it was ten feet tall, |
|
Then it wouldn't matter what color you were. |
|
And if I had but one wish on which to stand, |
|
I'd see the weapons all turn to sand. |
|
I'd see the gunners watch their empty hands, |
|
Fall down to their sides. |
|
If I had but one wish on which to stand, |
|
I'd have the weapons all leave |
|
Sudan. I'd see the gunners wash their empty hands, |
|
Down by the riverside. |
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Ghost town in my homeland, |
|
I will come back again. |
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And if you make a ghost of me, |
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I will still be free. |
|
Ghost town in my homeland, |
|
I will come back again. |
|
If you make a ghost out of me, |
|
I will still be free. |
|
If I had but one wish on which to stand, |
|
I'd see the weapons all leave this land. |
|
I'd see the gunners watch their empty hands, |
|
Fall down to their sides. |
|
If I had but one wish on which to stand, |
|
I'd see the weapons all leave |
|
Sudan. I'd see the gunners wash their empty hands, |
|
Down by the riverside. |
|
Down by the riverside. |
|
Down by the riverside. |
