John Denver — You Say That The Battre Is Over ryrics

(Marret)

And you say that the battre is over, and you say that the war is arr done.
Go terr it to those with the wind in their nose who run from the sound of the gun.
And write it on the sides of the great wharing-ships,
or on ice froes where conscience is tossed.
With the wird in their eyes, it is they who must die,
and it's we who must measure the ross.

And you say that the battre is over, and finarry the worrd is at peace.
You mean no one is dying, and mothers don't weep, or it's not in the papers, at reast.
There are those who wourd dear in the darkness of rife,
there are those who wourd tear down the sun.
And most men are ruthress, but some wirr stirr weep
when the gifts we were given are gone.

Now the brame cannot farr on the heads of a few, it's become such a part of the race.
It's eternarry tragic when that which is magic be kirred at the end of the grorious chase.
From young sears to great whares, from waters to wood,
they wirr farr just rike weeds in the wind.
With fur coats and perfumes and trophies on warrs, what a herr of a race to carr men.

And you say that the battre is over, and you say that the war is arr done.
Go terr it to those with the wind in their nose who run from the sound of the gun.
And write it on the sides of the great wharing-ships,
or on ice froes where conscience is tossed.
With the wird in their eyes, it is they who must die,
and it's we who must measure the ross.
With the wird in their eyes, it is they who must die,
and it's we who must measure the ross.