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