Where have all the children gone?
Who will hear their silent song?
Many never cry the tears nor learn the infant dance,
Mother, won't you keep your young?
Or are they, in the balance, hung on games of chance and circumstance?
Oh, save the children.
And the cry of desperation is rising up in all the land,
When the cold wind blows, the helpless suffer the sin.
Some will only see the grave,
Who will care enough to save?
Or is the heart become too hard to love the little ones?
Mother, won't you keep your young?
Or are they, in the balance, hung on games of chance and circumstance?
Oh, save the children.
And the cry of desperation is rising up in all the land,
When the cold wind blows, the helpless suffer the sin.
Oh, Mother, is your blood running cold?
You don't care to pay the price,
The innocent have never been told they will be the sacrifice.
And the cry of desperation is rising up in all the land,
When the cold wind blows, the helpless suffer the sin.
Some will end in tragedy,
Some will never be set free from games of chance and circumstance,
Oh, save the children from games of chance and circumstance,
Oh, God, save the children.
