Bless the executioner for he knows not what he does Take the hangman into yourself, he is afraid of blood Take the soldier to the sea, let him sleep upon the sand And give the axe-man sympathy for he hates his own hands
Give the torturer a break, he is really very shy Frown not at the man behind the gun for he is afraid to die Bless the soldier and every man upon the battle field Each one would like to be home, each one knows he will be killed
Though death is so unnecessary, tradition feels it must Condemn a man to die or elseways be turned into dust Officials feel that they are gods and must give all they can give But each one of us is God himself and has every right to live
Always smile at the mask of hate for it covers a sad face Pacify the nervous, put them gently in their place Show children to the old man who speaks only of his war And then kiss Death upon the cheek, let it think for ever more