Someone is telling out what I just want to know
It's in the field of crime where the bad seeds grow
Dig in the land, pick up the bones
Of the ones murdered in blue collar uniform
Bring out your flowers
Let your grand sons blow the dust
And recover your names
Anonymous heroes in the July graves
Drop your dignity over us
If we write your names in monuments of bronze
Could we ever touch what you died for?
Mothers, fathers, daughters and sons
It's in the fields of crime where the bad seeds grow
Bring out your flowers