History Boys

Six million souls lost to thin air

Are wandering the earth again

Lives, not numbers

All these ghosts, sons of mothers

History is empty arms

It's just one thing after another

And slowly we follow behind our boys

One day I'll have a child of my own

How will I tell him, oh

This world, this world it is a good place?

How will I hide the fear from my face?

How do you sleep with all that you've done?

Sending somebody else's son to die

For things no one believes in

Saluting your own charade

As we line up in this heartless parade