Bless the executioner for he knows not what he does
Take the hangman into yourself, he is afraid of blood
Take the soldier to the sea, let him sleep upon the sand
And give the axe-man sympathy for he hates his own hands
Give the torturer a break, he is really very shy
Frown not at the man behind the gun for he is afraid to die
Bless the soldier and every man upon the battle field
Each one would like to be home, each one knows he will be killed
Though death is so unnecessary, tradition feels I' must
Condemn a man to die or elseways be turned into dust
Officials feel that they are gods and must give all they can give
But each one of us is God himself and has every right to live
Always smile at the mask of hate for it covers a sad face
Pacify the nervous, put them gently in their place
Show children to the old man who speaks only of his war
And then kiss Death upon the cheek, let it think for ever more