(Judy)            The birds they sang at break of day
                  Start again, I heard them say
                  Nor dwell on what has passed away
                    Or what is yet to be.

                  The wars they will be fought again
                  The holy dove be caught again
                  Bought and sold and bought again
                    Until we set them free.

                  Ring the bells that still can ring
                  Forget your perfect offering
                  There is a crack in everything
                    The light behind to see.

                  Add up the parts, not yours the sum
                  Strike up the march, there is no drum
                  Every heart to love must come
                    Like a refugee