If I scatter your ashes both far and wide Across all nations, great and sacred divide Forgotten church yards to ancient temple ruin Broken bended knee to prayer and absolution Rusted weapons at this empty water post To the bones that scattered across this faring coast Dressed in rags and our spiritual riches Could you heal our wounds with a mother's forgiveness? Dressed in rags and our spiritual riches Could you heal our wounds? What you do, you reveal across the dreaded wire Cheekbones of razor and eyes of defiling fire Time stood still for the love we have proven And this devoured our hearts' destitution As young men never thought of growing old The words that leave a sign are long undone Dressed in rags and our spiritual riches Could you heal our wounds with a mother's forgiveness? Dressed in rags and our spiritual riches Can you heal our wounds? Can you heal our wounds? Take my hands and heal these wounds Mother, won't you bury your sons? Oh, mother, you bury your sons Oh, mother, you bury, you bury your sons You will bury your sons