(A) four years old child dies in the playground,
just an ordinary tragedy.
(But,) explain it to his dad, 'cause I can't.
I'm not (so) sure he wants to understand.
Nothing to say, (ooh)
when She comes, we move aside.
Maybe I should pray (ooh)
but I feel so cold inside.
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,
Of course, what should we add?
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust
It is so plain'n'sad...
Plain'n'sad.
Hospital, somewhere.
Gla**'s a pale stain,
d**h a painless curtain.
While a man lays there
waits a child alone,
for a dad not coming home.
And the question is
always the same,
an useless: "why"?
It feels so wrong,
Maybe I should
at least write down a song...
I am so tired,
Lord.
So useless,
so
old.
Return
But I love so much
this human kind,
with all its (share of) pain.
I can't just sit
and wait to drain:
I'll write a dream for them...
I am so tired,
Lord.
So useless,
so
old.
Return
(There) must be a place,
road, field or lane,
where fathers and sons will meet again.
Down the river's bed,
to throw a stone
and say: "Hey dad!
... look what I have done".