A man walks in his neighbours house says what can I do? My fathers' cousins' wife says I must kill you There is a debt of honour and it must be paid by you Though how it came to happen I can't tell you Can we ever find out who's to blame Can we ever solve our conscience with our shame Can we ever put things right A soldier guards a road block with a rifle in his hand He doesn't smile at children passing by him He couldn't give a damn about this god-forsaken land Where folks would rather hate then understand Can we ever find out who's to blame Can we ever solve our conscience with our shame Can we ever put things right Ooh though the seasons come and go Still the sickness seems to grow in the mind Ooh though the players names may change The simple questions still remains Who's to blame? Who's to blame? The journo closed his notebook with a sorry heavy sigh He can't afford to be seen to be taking sides Tonight he'll drink another beer and argue 'til he's blind And hope that better minds than his decide Can we ever find out who's to blame Can we ever solve our conscience with our shame Can we ever put things right Ooh though the seasons come and go Still the sickness seems to grow in the mind Ooh though the players names may change The simple questions still remains Who's to blame? Who's to blame?