It won’t bring back lovers and friends,
 but it might make for a happier end.
 
 There is hope in the land of ruins,
 in the village of old enemies
 who have come to join hands,
 for they share the knowledge:
 Compassion is the measure of a man.
 
 It won’t bring back lovers and friends,
 but it might make for a happier end.
 
 And all the colours will return to these hills,
 where the dust of despair takes a hold.
 One day they will drink,
 from these now stale waters.
 Where there’s a will there’s a road.
 
 It won’t bring back lovers and friends,
 but it might make for a happier end.
 Compassion is the measure of a man.