Charcoal to parchment the designer creates
Stone upon stone the labourers bring
Chisel to stone, the sculptor shapes
Cathedral rises, to honour the King

Atoms and poison, the scientists’ domain
Working and slaving until the job’s done
To end a war is their laudable aim
Mushroom blossoms to blot out the sun

Mallets and picks, they rise and they fall
Tear down the barrier dividing a race
Joyful dancing on top of the Wall
East and West meet face to face

A rifle takes aim, a trigger is squeezed
A bullet moves swiftly towards a head
The shadow conspirators nod and are pleased
Martin Luther King is dead

Hands clenched in fury strike and maim
Or grasping a weapon to beat and to kill
Hands of healing gentle the pain
Ease the hurt and cure the ill

Hands stretch out to beg and plead
Forgive, show mercy, save us, we say
Hands stretch to heaven in hour of need
Father, we praise you, be with us, we pray.