Once i had a brother, but now his dead like so many other.
They put a knife in his troth, and they blood was floating until he choked.
He fell in the hands of the dead for some fascism war,
And I just wonder.
Making love not war is wisest thing you can say to another.
Whit our brothers and sister we just sit and listen,
To some rich man on his throne of money, Blood money.
Commanding us to fight whit each other.
So my brother in heaven and our people in war,
MAKE LOVE NOT WAR