Sons Of - Judy Collins

Sons of the sea, sons of the saint

Who is the child with no complaint;

Sons of the great or sons unknown

All were children like your own

The same sweet smiles, the same sad tears

The cries at night, the nightmare fears

Sons of the great, sons unknown

All were children like your own

Sons of tycoons, or sons from the farms

All of the children ran from your arms

Through fields of gold, through fields of ruin

All of the children vanished too soon

In towering waves, in walls of flesh

Amid dying birds trembling with death

Sons of tycoons, sons from the farms

All of the children ran from your arms

Sons of your sons, sons passing by

Children were lost in lullaby

Sons of true love, sons of regret

All of your sons you can never forget

Some build the roads, some wrote the poems

Some went to war, some never came home

Sons of your sons, sons passing by

Children were lost in lullaby