Someone is telling out what I just want to know
It's in the field of crime where the bad seeds grow
Dig in the land, pick up the bones
Of the ones murdered in blue collar uniform.
Bring out your flowers
Let your grand sons blow the dust
And recover your names,
Anonymous heroes in the July graves
Drop your dignity over us.
If we write your names in monuments of bronze,
Could we ever touch what you died for?
Mothers, fathers, daughters and sons,
It's in the fields of crime where the bad seeds grow
Bring out your flowers
