(Hans York / T. Armstrong)
Wake up, wake up
Wake my girls every morning
Stand em up, Stand em up
Put their warm clothes on tight
Feed em well, feed em well
Hope the food keeps em healthy
Send em off, send em off
To get the news of the world
And I ought to know it
Won’t change for my girls
But my daughters will grow in
Another world
Yet we’re not the only ones
Suffered through cause
To raise up their motives
Above other laws
But I hold through it all
A belief in our land
Hold on to the spirit of the damned
Lift it up, lift it up
Lift the flag to its station
Separate, separate
We are not of their kind
Send em off, send em off
Men and women to fight
The numbness we’re facing
Passes through crowds
The patterns we’re chasing
Aren’t allowed
Yet we’re not…
Dresden, Panama,
London and Paris
Hiroshima, Netherlands,
Cambodia, New York
And I ought to know it
Won’t change for my girls
My daughters will grow in
Another world

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