And you sCay that the battle is oF- veCr finally the war is all doGne
Go tell it to those with the wind in their nose who run from the sound of the gCun F
And wCrite it on the sides of the gFreat whaling sChips
or on ice floes where conscience is tFossed
With the wild in their eyes it is tChey who must die
and wGe who must measure the lCoss F C
And you sCay that the battle is oF- veCr finally the world is at peGace
You mean no one is dying and mothers don't weep or it's not in the papers at lCeast
There are tChose who would deal in the dFarkness of lCife
There are those who would tear down the sFun
And most men are ruthless but sCome will still weep
When the gGifts we were given are gFone Dm Am G Am C
For the bClame cannot fall on the hFeads of a fCew
it's become such a part of the rGace
be killed at the end of the glorious cChase F
They will fall just like weeds in the wFind
With fur coats and perfumes and tCrophies on walls
What a hGell of a race to call mFen G Am C F Em Dm
And you sCay that the battle is oFver fCinally the war is all dGone
Go tell it to those with the wind in their nose who run from the sound of the gCun F
And wCrite it on the sides of the gFreat whaling sChips
or on ice floes where conscience is tFossed
With the wild in their eyes it is tChey who must die
and wGe who must measure the lCoss F
With the wild in their eyes it is tChey who must die
and wGe who must measure the cCost F C