The Sunken Lands

Five cans of paint in the empty fields The dust reveals The children cry, the work never ends There's not a single friend Who will hold her hand in the sunken lands? The mud and tears melt the cotton balls It's a heavy toll, oh-oh His words are cruel and they sting like fire Like the devil's choir, oh-oh But who will hold her hand in the sunken lands? The river rises and she sails away But she could never stay, oh-oh Now her work is done in the sunken lands There's, five empty cans