The people came -yeah they came in the blue sedans
to a graveyard in my town
The people came

With plastic roses faded grey from red
Seems that they come here every year
crying their hopeless tears

We do not grieve as they who have no hope
we're not abandoned as orphans -alone
In Jesus we're not walkin' `round
like this is all there is
we're in this world, but we're not of it
'cause we are His, We are His

A man sold guns away, on a corner of my town
And he was open only sundays and he liked it that way

Sir, I've gotta ask you, what's that picture there
"That was my boy -my only boy- we lost him in the war"
Before my pain was carved in stone
I met a man - sold guns away