""Trumpets sounded last posts clear as bells whistles or day Death knells you heard so well that rattle the snares of funeral drums Brothers put up your left hands... Flags flown clawing under bridges rebuilt by hands burnt to the bone Footfalls haunted by those of a history's worth of burning house and home Brothers put up your left hands no devil here exists A war-torn family's as strong as mortar and brick There's a house on the hill Windows black as nails picking through the ashes. No beginning no end no cause nor effect nor dark omen. Wrap the palms of your hands round the weapons built by your mothers. Cut the cord and we'll rip our fellow man into pieces.""