May we keep trying to beat our swords into ploughshares Even though our hands our tired our fingers are frail Our bombs into sphygmomanometers Even though our hearts are grown heavy and sad. Because, I think, the act […]
May we keep trying to beat our swords into ploughshares Even though our hands our tired our fingers are frail Our bombs into sphygmomanometers Even though our hearts are grown heavy and sad. Because, I think, the act […]