Lyrics
In the small hours of the morning, lies the village Al-Qa'im,
while its people quietly sleeping, soldiers rifles pierce the rain.
beyond the edge of every conflict, lies the promise of new days,
and the hope that maybe one day, peace bells reunite this land.
There is a fine line between reason, and obsession with the cause,
there is a fine line between treason, and the urge to change the laws.
No good tidings are delivered through a bleeding, outstretched hand,
while at home scared mothers wonder, why their sons are still amiss,
all the church bells ring in Christmas, 'tis the season filled with bliss.
We have come here to bring freedom, and to bridge the gaping rift,
Hypocrites applaud each other, bullets make a thoughtful gift,
and the big guy in the red suit spotted easy through a scope
while at home scared mothers wonder, desperately trying to cope,
all the church bells ring in Christmas, next year's better so they hope.
Our 3 wise-men are field medics, saving what there is to save,
gold and frankincense and myrrh, won't resurect us from our graves,
smell of diesel fills the night air, cookies taste like rocket fuel,
Send a web-mail,merry christmas, we'll be cannon fodder soon.
We have come here to bring freedom, and to bridge the gaping rift,
Hypocrites applaud each other, tracers make a thoughtful gift,
20 per mag, one in barrel, festive blaze red, white and blue,
while at home young widows huddle 'round the TV to forget,
all the church bells ring in Christmas, no sign of the savior yet.
and while all of us are wondering, just how much more we can take,
blessed mother quietly weeping for her children's looming fate,
all the church bells ring in Christmas, but this one feels more like a wake.
