Too many believe
in some "master plan"
'cause it's hard to accept
what's not shapen by hand
But here, under the sun,
where events can't be undone;
once superstition's spent -
You gotta know,
we want our brothers back
The hurt came down
from the clear blue sky
The sands of time
went rushing by
It came as a shock,
we'd shut our eyes
Is this all that's left,
just a slow good-bye?

The curators frown
and they wax abstract
But, man, if you've found love
what could matter more than that?

It's a crime and a shame (selfish and vain)
to try to justify this pain
I guess they'll think what they will -
But before the dawn
they'll want their brothers back