Someday the land will subside beneath the sea Hiding the rocks that Hiroshima was built on. But the shadows printed on stone will remain Someday the ocean will again cover the land That once held up the chimneys of Auschwitz But the ashes will still be there, between layers of mud. Someday water will again cover Srbenica and Sarajevo, Rwanda and Cambodia. But the blood stains will not be washed away The earth itself will move, in vain. Our songs are better bandages for our self-inflicted wounds Than dirt or water.