Текст песни Cranberries, The - Warchild
Cranberries, The - Warchild слова песни
Who will save the warchild baby
Who controls the key?
The web we weave is thick and sorted
Fine by me
At times of war, we`re all losers
There`s no victory
We shoot and kill and kill your lover
Fine by me
Warchild, victim of political pride
Plant the seed, territorial greed
Mind the warchild, we should mind the warchild
I spent last winter in New York and came upon a man
He was sleeping on the streets and homeless
He said "I fought in Vietnam"
Beneath his shirt he wore his mark, he bore the mark of pride
A two inch deep incision, carved into his side
Warchild, victim of political pride
Plant the seed, terrirtorial greed