We fly over picture perfect mountains of green
with their storybook castles atop and look down
Upon grandmothers and babies at zoos and museums
and newlywed couples in city and town
And farmers and sculptors, auto mechanics,
children with books and children with guns
Driving out families, rewriting histories,
cleaning out parents and daughters and sons
And we protest their mission, we detest their methods
we give them the pain of our missiles and bombs
And take out an embassy, army or orphanage
give all our children their own Viet Nams
And I cry, what have we found?
Pieces of heaven all over the ground
Chorus
There are pieces of light and pieces of sorrow
Ashes of darkness and shards of tomorrow
Remnants of happiness, fragments of sound
And pieces of heaven all over the ground
We hop in our minivans, drive across town
to the new high school campus to pick up our kids
Then pause as we watch adolescents in bloom
avoiding the ones with their lives on the skids
And we venture inside and walk through the halls
full of children with books and children with guns
Fracturing families, canceling histories
cheating out parents of daughters and sons
And we wail at the fates, scream out obscenities
weep at the pain of the bullets and bombs
And tighten security, heighten surveillance
scrutinize fathers and analyze moms
And I cry, what have we found?
Pieces of heaven all over the ground
Chorus
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