If you follow the trail of red droplets it leads
To where statues and maples stand and bleed
We'll lower some flags, as if that will save
The tiny and innocent in graves
There's a file in a desk, where the evidence hides
And ledgers hold lists of those that died
But they're not for our eyes, so we'd best move along
To wave flags in July, like nothing's wrong
Two hundred and fifteen and that’s just a start
Two hundred and fifteen holes in our hearts
One is one too many, so how did we get here?
Two hundred and fifteen tears
A pipeline protected by goons in red serge
Take a musical ride, 'til your guilt’s been purged
And we'll smile and shake hands with oil men and popes
And stand back from the edge of a slippery slope
With the church and the state as the captors at large
Of the small ghosts of history in their charge
An outlet for the sadists, in black robes and capes
And the dead can't talk of beatings and rapes
Two hundred and fifteen and that’s just a start
Two hundred and fifteen holes in our hearts
One is one too many, so how did we get here?
Two hundred and fifteen tears
Self-righteous and smug, a finger we wag
At oppressive regimes, but we cannot brag
Who are the barbarians, cruel and unjust?
In hindsight, the real savages are us.
Two hundred and fifteen and that’s just a start
Two hundred and fifteen families ripped apart
One is one too many, so how did we get here?
Two hundred and fifteen tears, two hundred and fifteen...