(2010?)

All of the sons fight the wars of their fathers

And all of the fathers give them their guns

At the same time the fathers surrender their daughters

To whatever circumstances may come

Mother flee with me says my dear brother

And we'll build our home from mortar and stone

For this is the land, cultivated by father

And all his crops are well over grown

Father decided that the valley was too barren

So he sent his sons said "make flowers to grow"

I hear the sons crying "honor for father!"

That same year they all died in the snow

The valley it grows from hillside to hillside

And all of the flowers look like uncles and aunts

It grows steadily; and the growing it won't cease

Under whatever circumstances may come

Then my dear sister had a sad misadventure

She was caught in the snare of the string and the pail

Now she sweeps the streets for the sons of my father

She weeps for her dreams that have long gone stale

Where is brother who ran with my mother

Woe for my sister and her newborn son

Woe for this daughter who fled from her father

And whatever circumstances may come