歌词
The blood on the trees, the sorrow and the debt,
The twitch and the snap, the rope around the neck,
They hung your sweetheart, he swung until the morning.
Hand on your heart, ear to the ground,
You're a spy and a mole, an enemy of the crown,
And all this subterfuge, just makes the pain last longer.
Oh brave little soldier, don't fight on your own,
Baby shield your eyes from the mortar.
Oh brave little soldier, don't fight on your own,
All that hate weighs you down,
That spite will rip your heart out.
The paper and the ink, the velum and the press,
You closed the printers down, but the printers only printed,
Words that float around,
You can't stop the people talking or thinking or doing.
Oh brave little soldier, don't fight on your own,
Baby shield your eyes from the mortar.
Oh brave little soldier, don't fight on your own,
All that hate weighs you down.
The words and the lies are fickle little allies,
Teasing the fabric apart,
Oh brave little soldier you won't let it go,
And the hate weighs you down.
All that spite will rip your heart out.
You need a door you can close on the world,
But a door you don't close all the time.