In Guernica the dead children Were laid 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 candyTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
