walk in the field of blood
think of the price in the soil of death
and the dying and the hanging and the awful kiss
walk in the field of blood.
and the soul of the man in the soil
and the gates swing to as the hands grip fast
where the money falls and never goes back
and an acre of ground is a field of blood.
the money is ours today
and the ballad of men is the saddest song
of a world in tears that traded life
in an act of love in a field of blood.
walk in the field of blood
think of the price in the soil of death
and the dying and the hanging and the awful kiss
oh walk in the field of blood.
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