And you s G ay that the battle is C ov G er
And finally the war is all do D ne
Go tell it to those With the wind in their nose
Who run from the sound of the g G un C
And wr G ite it on the sides Of the gr C eat whaling sh G ips
Or on ice floes where conscience is to C ssed with the wild in their eyes
It is t G hey who must die and it's w D e who must measure the lo G ss C Em D
And you say that the battle is over
And finally the world is at peace
You mean no one is dying and mothers don't weep
or it's not in the papers at least.
There are those who would deal in the darkness of life
There are those who would tear down the sun. And most men are ruthless
but some will still weep, When the gifts we were given are gone.
Now the blame cannot fall on the heads of a few.
It's become such a part of the race
It's eternally tragic, that which is magic,
be killed at the end of the glorious chase.
From young seals to great whales, from waters to wood
They will fall just like weeds in the wind. With fur coats and perfumes
and trophies on walls, what a hell of a race to call men.
repeat verse 1
With the wild in their eyes
It is they who must die
And it's we who must measure the loss
C G
John Denver
