"Bring  back  that  child,"  she  said  "spare  me  the  price  of  freedom.

Cold  is  my  baby's  head  blown  by  the  wind  of  reason"

Even  the  rage  behind  cries  out  to  see

We're  still  standing  under  the  closing  edge

Pay  for  the  crime  of  feeling

When  all  your  pride  is  dead  you  must  be  scared  instead...

A  quiet  word  is  my  proposition

A  promise  made  of  a  fierce  day

A  body  bleeds  for  this  coalition

Without  surrender  if  you  stay

"Show  me  my  youth,"  she  cried  "wasted  for  desolation"

Hold  up  the  sacrifice,  pull  down  your  institutions

Resting  while  anger  flies  question's  the  same...  who's  deciding?

After  the  clouds  have  lain  shame  on  your  generation

When  all  your  guilt  lies  dead  you  must  be  scared  instead

(chorus)

When  all  your  pain  lies  dead  you  must  be  scared  instead

(chorus)  (chorus)

Proposition...

Proposition...

Proposition...

Proposition...