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They fell that year they vanished |
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From the earth |
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Never knowing the cause |
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Or what laws the offended |
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The women few as well |
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And the babies they tendered |
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Left to die left to cry |
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All condemned by their birth |
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They fell like rain |
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Across the thirsty land |
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In their heart they were slain |
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In their God still believing |
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All their pity and pain |
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In that season of grieving |
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All in vain, all in vain |
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Just for one helping hand |
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For no one heard their prayers |
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In a world bent on pleasure |
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Form others people care |
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They simply closed their eyes |
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They create a-lot of sound |
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In jazz and right time measure |
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The trumpets screamed till dawn |
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To drown the children's cries |
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They fell like leaves |
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Its people its prime |
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Simple man, kindly man |
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And no one new his crime |
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The became in that hour |
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Like the small desert flower |
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Simply covered by the silent wind |
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In sands of time |
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They fell that year |
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Before a cruel foe |
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They had little to give |
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But their lives and their passion |
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And their longing to live |
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In their way, in their fashion |
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So their harvest can |
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Thrive their children can grow |
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They fell like flies |
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Their eyes still full of sound |
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Like a dove its flight |
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In the path of rifle |
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That fall down were it might |
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That holds on with its might |
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As if death were a trifle |
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And to bring to an end |
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A life barely begun and I am of that race |
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Who die in unknown places |
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Who perished in their pride |
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Whose blood in rivers ran |
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In agony and fright |
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With courage on their faces |
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They went in to the night |
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That waits for every man |
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They fell like tears |
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And never new what for |
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In that summer of strife |
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Of massacre and war |
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Their only crime was life |
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There only guilt was fear |
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The children of Armenia |
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Nothing less nothing more |