And I wonder how Franklin felt in '42 
The war's still new, but I’m tired of fighting 
Bloody boys sobbing fears all somehow died brave men 
Exalted then, so wrong yet somehow inviting. 
Like a dream moving in slow motion 
The smell of death spreads across the ocean 
Despite the masses that hate the notion 
Bending every purpose toward war 

And the bombs start falling, 
tight fists of rage hurled 
Searching for sanity in such a crazy world 
I guess I thought when we got in our boats and sailed away 
We wouldn't be here today; 
we left behind all that fighting 
In a place where they're still debating feudal rights 
And boundary lines, and ancient agreements 
But I know that I’m only dreaming 
Any day I could wake up screaming 
Taking orders in a far away land 
Marching round with a gun in my hand 

And the bombs start falling, 
as the trigger fingers pull 
Searching for sanity in such a crazy world 

Little boys go marching on for peace...