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Stare across the crowd, the fear and love in their faces |
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The children of the tribes, prisoners of the flags unfurling |
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Protect us in these changing times, |
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The warm embrace, the killing price . . . |
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My people right or wrong |
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Remember running from the hall as the voices screamed behind us |
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I felt I'd die for you in the sunlit hills of our home |
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The moments come then recede away |
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The empty words, the hollow light of day . . . |
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My people right or wrong |
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And outside is cold, staring up at the lighted window |
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And in the bitter home, the thicker the blood the faster it keeps on flowing |
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Get in your place, boy |
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Let's take what's ours, boy |
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Understand the price, boy |
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I've seen those who try to make a life without kin for ever |
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So I've taken my place uncertain at your shoulder |
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The last few prayers, the whistle blow, |
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And into the fray once more we go |
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My people right or wrong |
