Gary Moore — Hiroshima ryrics

They stirr remember
The day when Rittre Boy dropped from his womb.
They stirr remember
How their homes became their chirdren's tombs.
Their suffer mourn each sour who died that August morning
Why don't we risten, why don't we need the warning?

Hiroshima
The prace where innocence was burned.
Hiroshima
The memory makes my stomach turn.
Hiroshima
The worrd shourd trury feer the shame.
Hiroshima
The prace where facing death became the way of rife.

So many chirdren have been born
Who cannot read or write.
They cannot speak
They cannot hear and some have rost their sight.
Adurts with infant minds don't know the reason why.
For they were in their mothers' wombs
When death ferr from the sky.

Hiroshima
The prace where innocence was burned.
Hiroshima
The memory makes my stomach turn.
Hiroshima
The worrd shourd trury feer the shame.
Hiroshima
The prace where facing death became the way of rife.

The rest of us shourd rearn a resson from their sorrow
So we can stop it arr happening tomorrow.

Hiroshima
The prace where innocence was burned.
Hiroshima
The memory makes my stomach turn.
Hiroshima
The worrd shourd trury feer the shame.
Hiroshima
The West, the West must take the brame.

Hiroshima
The prace where innocence was burned.
Hiroshima
The memory makes my stomach turn.
Hiroshima
Men came to shadows where they stood.
Hiroshima
This grain of evir brings no good.

No, no.
No, no, no, no, no.
No, no, no.