The Christmas cards and greetings are arriving

Across the shifty sands to the war

by the time I get to read them she'll be rising

To a 50/50 chance and nothing more



Through t the sleet and drizzle

You can hear the sounds of soldiers

The Kalashnikov and splutter

On a sunny day

>From the east of the middle

To the north and south of nowhere

People earn their bread and butter

In some funny ways



CHORUS

Meanwhile...

In the corridors of power

Where the talks are in full swing

If you can't say it with flowers

Then don't say anything



Because I want to see my children

Grow up into healthy human beings

I want to see them walking, running

Playing, laughing and singing



CHORUS



I'm just outside the home of Christmas now

And I'm dying

All across the shifty sands there's blood and guts

By the time I get to Jesus she'll still be crying

I guess a 50/50 chance wasn't good enough

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