To listen to Child Of The Land, click here
The child hears
the slow train there
Travelling to who
knows where
Hears the tramping
of the feet
Hears the shouting
in the street
Hears a voice that
calls a name
Hears the wild
responding scream
Hears the tolling
of the bell
Hears the damned
cry out in Hell
Then child take my
hand
Child become a man
Don't lie down
with the lamb
On the slow, slow
train
The child sees the
iron track
Sees the whip upon
the back
Sees the hollow
skulls, the stones
Sees the whiteness
of the bones
Sees the hand take
up the gun
Sees the man who
tries to run
Sees the hand that
wields the knife
Sees the man yield
up his life
Then child take my
hand
Child become a man
Don't lie down
with the lamb
On the slow slow
train
Fields of barley
now have grown
With earth manured
by dead men's bones
Where the souls of
men were thrown
From the slow slow
train
The child feels
the iron rod
The child hears no
word of God
The child smells
the burning flesh
The child fears to
know the rest
The child waits to
learn the truth
The child
witnesses the proof
The child weeps
upon the grave
The child alone is
saved
Come child take my
hand
I will lead you to
the land
Be a lion not a
lamb
Leave the slow,
slow train
The child grows
his youth in hate
The child knows
that he can wait
The child's heart
is crushed with pain
The child vows
"Never again"
The child puts flowers
on the grave
The child thanks
God that he was saved
The child goes up
to the land
The child is
father to the man
O child of the
land
Child become a man
A lion not a lamb
Farewell the slow,
slow train
Fields of barley
now have grown
With earth manured
by dead men's bones
Where the seeds of
men were sown
On the slow, slow
train
You can find David Prashker at:
If
you would like to include "Child Of The Land" in your repertoire,
either for paid public performance or to record for commercial
purposes, or if you would like to re-use the recordings attached to this
blog-page for commercial purposes, contact
argaman@theargamanpress.com.
Use of this song, and/or these recordings, for
non-commercial purposes, is not simply permitted but invited.
Words and music by David Prashker
Copyright © 2014 David Prashker
All rights reserved
The Argaman Press
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