Testo Sons Of The Soil

Mud upon his shoes, your Father walks across the fields
Down into the valley where they wait
A Solitary Bell, the flowers and crowds that line this quiet English street
The way your Mother brushed aside her tears and raised her eyes up to the sky
The day they brought you home

A rifle cracks the sky at graveside
And I remember running through these streets And I remember when we ruled the World
And every oath we swore in blood, the day they brought you home

When will we know such friends again?
Each passing year, each sad parade
The shadows lengthen in the villages we knew
One took the Sword, one took the soil
Sons of the Sword, Sons of the Soil