Of a time, of a country

Of a time that will be ours,
of a country we never made,
I sing the hopes
and I weep the little faith.

We don't believe in guns:

man was made for life,
he wasn't made for death.

We don't believe in misery,

the necessary misery, as they say,
of so many people.

Of a time that's just beginning to be ours,
of a county we're beginning to make,
I sing the hopes
and I weep the little faith.

We are far from useless memories
and old passions,
we shall not march behind
the ancient drums.

Of a time that's just beginning to be ours,
of a county we're beginning to make,
I sing the hopes
and I weep the little faith.

Of a time that's just beginning to be ours,
of a county we're beginning to make.