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Fields of the Brave Lyrics
Sometimes I close my eyes
And picture the plains
I see Buffalo Bill and the Iroquois
Riding again
Open skies, fertile ground
This was heaven on earth
That they found
We got what they gave
By their God we were saved
They were humble not depraved
These streets we're afraid of
Once were the fields of the brave
The fields of the brave
Where a Chevrolet rusts
By a closed shopping mall
Can you see through the dust
Where the brave ones stood tall
Buried deep where they fell
They live on in the stories we tell
They got what they gave
By their God they were saved
And I say this as I pray
I can't help but dream of
The days these were fields of the brave
The fields of the brave
After all this time
And the struggles in between
We stand next in line
With the chance we can build on their dreams
In the
Fields of the brave
Fields of the brave
We got what they gave
In the fields of the brave
Let their spirits be saved
And I pray this on their graves
There'll be a return of
The days these were fields of the brave
The fields of the brave
And picture the plains
I see Buffalo Bill and the Iroquois
Riding again
This was heaven on earth
That they found
By their God we were saved
They were humble not depraved
These streets we're afraid of
Once were the fields of the brave
The fields of the brave
By a closed shopping mall
Can you see through the dust
Where the brave ones stood tall
They live on in the stories we tell
By their God they were saved
And I say this as I pray
I can't help but dream of
The days these were fields of the brave
The fields of the brave
And the struggles in between
We stand next in line
With the chance we can build on their dreams
In the
Fields of the brave
We got what they gave
Let their spirits be saved
And I pray this on their graves
There'll be a return of
The days these were fields of the brave
The fields of the brave
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A nostalgia for pre-industrial America that longs for the simpler pioneering spirit that made America great. A nod to the conflicting narratives of the conquering pioneer and the conquered indigenous Americans without taking a position. Delightfully noncommittal even if deliberately Pollyanna-ish about yesteryear. It fails to consider that the days of old could inextricably wind up with our current situation and begs the question of why one would want to return to those days except to enjoy the power of conqueror.