When I was young
I carried my guitar
Down to the crossroads
And over the seas
Now those old roads
Are a trail of volcanoes
Exploding with refugees
It seems to me
We're all walking down
The same road
To wherever it ends
The pity is
The damage that's done
Leaves so little time
For amends
I carried my guitar
Down to the crossroads
And over the seas
Now those old roads
Are a trail of volcanoes
Exploding with refugees
It seems to me
We're all walking down
The same road
To wherever it ends
The pity is
The damage that's done
Leaves so little time
For amends
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