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{intimate fingerpicked acoustic guitar,
soft warm cello swells,
slow building tension} The TV glows before the sun,
Another story, another one.
Cities shaken by the sound of war,
Families sleeping behind broken doors.
A classroom waits for morning bells,
Parents whisper silent prayers.
Another headline steals the peace,
As another candle lights the street. (hmmmm)
Every page
is filled with pain,
Different places... the same refrain.
{subtle ambient swell, building string section} Every headline tells a story,
Not just numbers on a screen.
Every face was someone's future,
Every dream was someone's dream.
War keeps drawing deeper scars,
Gunfire echoes near and far.
Families searching for tomorrow,
Carrying more than anyone should borrow.
Tell me... when will hate give way?
When will love have the final say?
{soaring vocals, warm acoustic band
join, light percussion} Some are running from the bombs,
Holding children in their arms.
Some are mourning lives cut short,
Wondering what all this fighting's for.
Sirens sing where lullabies should,
Neighborhoods once full of good.
People hoping they'll wake to find A little more peace,
a little more time.
(ahhhh) The color of a flag can't hide the tears.
The language doesn't change the fears.
No border can erase the pain Of losing someone you can't replace.
If every heart could stop and see The life behind each tragedy,
Maybe we'd choose mercy over pride,
And let compassion be our guide.
{swelling string section, cinematic crescendo}
So if tomorrow writes new headlines,
Let them speak of peace instead.
Of hands that healed instead of hurting...
And love that rose where fear had spread.
{tender fingerpicking fades
out, single cello note sustains}