(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".