| Disc 1 | ||||||
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1. |
| 3:35 | 
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How is our glorious country ploughed?
Not by iron ploughs Our lands is ploughed by tanks and feet, Feet Marching Oh, America Oh, England How is our glorious country sown? Not with wheat and corn. How is our glorious land bestowed? What is the glorious fruit of our land? Its fruit is deformed children. What is the glorious fruit of our land? Its fruit is orphaned children. |
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| 2. |
| 4:13 |
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I have heard the sound of your call
I have chosen your path I joined your caravan We called you the nightingale I remember how excited we were The best of life lay ahead for us We marched on, wrapped in your song For you I gave my five-year-old son I felt him behind me I felt him helping me Every one of us will go to Paradise He sang to the soldiers day and night We called him the nightingale Get ready, get ready, get ready Heads on top of sticks were angels around me Heads on top of sticks became angels around me Heads on top of sticks, crashed veins, angels around me Heads on top of sticks were like angels around me |
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