If I could sing a song for every bomb that flies I'd sing each and all the days If there were to be a verse for every dying child's cries For every helpless father's gaze If I could write a love letter to each corpse as it is carried I'd never still my pen If I had to stop a moment for each one that's been buried I'd never move again And the stocks are going up in somewhere in America I'll sing a song for Basra
If I could shed a tear for every home that bombs destroy I'd never stop crying If each broken brick were a heart of a little girl or boy All the world's children would be sighing If I could hold each shattered body, each baby stilled at birth I'd have no time for loneliness I'd spend all my days embracing the people of this savaged earth Feeling the poisoned wind's caress And the billionaires are laughing somewhere in America I'll sing a song for Basra
If each barren pharmacy were a woman's shining eyes I'd fall in love forever If every bombed-out kindergarten were a factory in disguise Wouldn't that be clever But bricks are only bricks, and dust is only dust And death is all around Each day another missile falls and sometimes the only thing to trust Is the shaking of the ground And they're loading up the warplanes somewhere in America I'll sing a song for Basra