The Island

They say the skies of Lebanon are burning
Those mighty cedars bleeding in the heat
They're showing puctures on the television
Women and children dying in the street.

Ant we're still at it in our own place
Still trying to reach the future through the past
Still trying to care tomorrow from a tombstone
But hey! Don't listen to me!

'Cause this wasn't meant to be no sad song
We've heard to much of that before
Right now I only want to be here with you
Till the morning dew comes falling.

I want to take you to the island
And trace your footprints in the sand
And in the evening when the sun goes down
We'll make love to the sound of the ocean.

They're raising banners over by the markets
Whitewashing slogans on the shipyard walls
Witch doctors praying for a mighty showdown
No way our holy flag is gonna fall.

Up here we scrifice our children
To feed the worn out dreams of yesterday
And teach them dying will lead us into glory
But hey! Don't listen...

Now I know us plain folks don't see all the story
And I know this peace and love's just copping out
And I guess these young boys dying in the ditches
Is just what being free is all about.

And how this twisted wreckage down on Main Street
Will bring us all together in the end
And we'll go marching down the road to freedome
Freedome.