This Is Not Our Children's War

There is no victory for those who are unloved,
No wars can embrace the love I've seen,
I stare at your face with my blistered eyes,
And heave you back where you're unseen,
See the dead soldiers flow in our rivers,
That we use to cleanse our blood-stained hands,
The soils of hatered turn dry in the summers,
As roots of bombs spread over the lands

All your fears will drive us farther away,
We can't play with our old friends anymore,
But I can hear a distant voice that whispers,
That this is not our children's war

Our fathers tore down the bridges to dreams,
And the sons and daughters must rebuild them,
If it is not to them whom we owe this world,
Then it will belong to those who condemn them,
We hand them their guns as they go out to play,
And we teach them the fun and laughs of killing,
Packing them on trains to fight for these wars,
But it's our own blood they will be spilling

All your fears will drive us farther away,
We can't play with our old friends anymore,
But I can hear a distant voice that whispers,
That this is not our children's war

Sound the war-drums of a tin soldier dancing,
Only to fall at the hands of false wisdoms,
Our children will know the feeling of death,
As they die bleeding where peace never comes,
Look into the graves you teach all our children,
But not to the trees and the rivers and stars,
They learn from our hatred or our compassion,
Handing them weapons to make them who we are

All your fears will drive us farther away,
We can't play with our old friends anymore,
But I can hear a distant voice that whispers,
That this is not our children's war