In Guernica the dead children were layed out in order on the sidewalk
In their white starched dresses
In their pitiful white dresses
On their foreheads and breasts the little round holes where death came in as thunder while they were playing their important summer games
Do not weep for them, Madre
They are gone forever, the little ones
Straight to heaven to the saints
And God will fill the bullet holes with candy
Baptism: A Journey Through Our Time
- Old Welsh Song
- I Saw The Vision Of Armie..
- Minister Of War
- Song In The Blood
- In Guernica
- No Man Is An Island
- All The Pretty Little Hor..
- Gacela Of The Dark Death
- The Parable Of The Old Ma..