Bless the executioner for he knows not what he does   Take the hangman into yourself, he is afraid of blood   Take the soldier to the sea, let him sleep upon the sand   And give the axe-man sympathy for he hates his own hands      Give the torturer a break, he is really very shy   Frown not at the man behind the gun for he is afraid to die   Bless the soldier and every man upon the battle field   Each one would like to be home, each one knows he will be killed      Though death is so unnecessary, tradition feels it must   Condemn a man to die or elseways be turned into dust   Officials feel that they are gods and must give all they can give   But each one of us is God himself and has every right to live      Always smile at the mask of hate for it covers a sad face   Pacify the nervous, put them gently in their place   Show children to the old man who speaks only of his war   And then kiss Death upon the cheek, let it think for ever more