Rockets hit the station, fire set ablaze,
death and mutilation in the haze
Where mercy takes a holiday, hatred wears a crown
The undertaker's king in Ulster Town

Green the fields of envy, red the bloody lane
Still they bury and they bury in my name

Bells ring out in Belfast
How many more will die?
The wounded stain the cradle to the grave
How spite, fear, and bigotry can change the face of shame
Do the losses really balance out the gain

Grey and broken cobblestone, yellow is the moon
Bitterest of tears are shed of those who die too soon
And answers aren't so simple when the truth is plain to see,
you'd do to them what you would do to me