Section 1
He should walk through these hills - like a new-born lamb
In fields where sheep may safely graze
Instead he's a torn and bitter man - who curses the hours of the days
As a boy in a brown shirt - he kicked in the store fronts
Tossing the world to the flames
Their voices grew highter - as they stood by the fire
Of an evil that could not speak its name

With his tin hat and carbine - he froze to the dead
And waited for silence in the earth
He wandered for months - with his hands on his head
To the wretched remainders of his birth
In shoes that were broken as bad as his heart was
He kicked through the rubble and the stone
And he fell on the slip of a western-bound ship
And turned his face from his home

Section 2
She should walk through these hills - and be warmed by her thoughts
In fields - where sheep may safely graze
Instead she is tied in a black silken knot
That strangles the hours of the days
As a girl in a nightmare - she stood by the barbed wire
Watching the jungle in flames
And the lessons she learned - as the plantation burned
Were of evil that could not speak its name

With her two-octave Princess - brought out from the old world
She played in the prisoners' band
Til a bayonet's pierce - put an end to her song
And the bellows were torn from her hand
The music behind her would be a reminder
Of a childhood unanswered in prayer
Now she nervously laughs at the sweep of the past
And of memories too broken to bear