Coming down through the trees from an incredible height,

Whispering dreams of blossoming light.

And all the time, looking for a crime

on the ground and in the air; the makers of despair.

And the music played on like none heard before.

Had us all standing up shouting screaming for more.

But with guns in hand behind smiling public faces,

They would make their stand with madmen in high places.

It was a song to enjoy for wealthy or poor,

Open-ended on joy, closed on war.

Open-ended on joy, closed on war.

Still the music played on defying the masters of the races

And hope began to dawn beneath the madmen in high places.

It was a song to enjoy for wealthy or poor,

Open-ended on joy, closed on war.

Open-ended on joy, closed on war.