There are rifles buried
In the countryside for
The rising of the moon,
May they lie there
Long forgotten till
They rust away into the ground.
Who will bend this ancient hatred,
Will the killing to an end?
Who will swallow long injustice,
Take the devil for a country man?
Who will say "this far no further,
Oh lord, if I die today?"
Send no weapons
No more money.
Send no vengeance
Across the seas,
Just the blessing
Of forgiveness
For my new countryman and me.
Missing brothers,
Martyred fellows,
Silent children
In the ground.
Could we but hear them
Could they not tell us
"Time to lay God's rifle down."
Who will say,
"this far, no further,"
Oh Lord, if I die today?