These mist covered mountains
are a home now for me.
But my home is the lowlands,
and always will be.
Some day you'll return to
your valleys and your farms,
and you'll no longer burn
to be brothers in arms.
Through these fields of destruction,
baptisms of fire,
I've witnessed your suffering
as the battles raged higher.
And though we were hurt so bad,
in the fear and alarm,
you did not desert me,
my brothers in arms.
There's so many different worlds,
so many different suns.
And we have just one world,
but we live in different ones.
Now the sun's gone to hell
and the moon's riding high.
Let me bid you farewell,
every man has to die.
But it's written in the starlight
and every line in your palm.
We're fools to make war,
on our brothers in arms.
Comentarios