And I wonder how Franklin felt in '42    The war's still new, but I’m tired of fighting    Bloody boys sobbing fears all somehow died brave men    Exalted then, so wrong yet somehow inviting.    Like a dream moving in slow motion    The smell of death spreads across the ocean    Despite the masses that hate the notion    Bending every purpose toward war       And the bombs start falling,    tight fists of rage hurled    Searching for sanity in such a crazy world    I guess I thought when we got in our boats and sailed away    We wouldn't be here today;    we left behind all that fighting    In a place where they're still debating feudal rights    And boundary lines, and ancient agreements    But I know that I’m only dreaming    Any day I could wake up screaming    Taking orders in a far away land    Marching round with a gun in my hand       And the bombs start falling,    as the trigger fingers pull    Searching for sanity in such a crazy world       Little boys go marching on for peace...