(Judy) The birds they sang at break of day

Start again, I heard them say

Nor dwell on what has passed away

Or what is yet to be.



The wars they will be fought again

The holy dove be caught again

Bought and sold and bought again

Until we set them free.



Ring the bells that still can ring

Forget your perfect offering

There is a crack in everything

The light behind to see.



Add up the parts, not yours the sum

Strike up the march, there is no drum

Every heart to love must come

Like a refugee