Only God Knows
She will never see the beauty of a sunrise
Nor pick a flower blowing in the wind
She will never climb up to sit on Daddy's knee
Never spend a summer day with her best friend
She will never bake cookies with Mommy
Never know what it's like to be 16
Never shear her love with that special someone
Never have the family of her childhood dreams
He will never celebrate his first birthday
You will never hear him call your name out loud
He will never run across the grassy meadow
Nor will he be the little boy that makes you proud
He will never go fishing with Daddy
Nor have the joy of buying his first car
He will never get to father his own family
Nor hear his little boy wish upon a star
Day by day and one by one, we're killing our future
By the thousands every day across the land
Can you tell me what has happened to America?
Is there anyone who dares to take a stand?
We have the blood of little children on our hands
But in Heaven, God is picking up the pieces
Of the countless treasures we have thrown away
While slowly he's reshaping and re-molding
Those precious little helpless lumps of clay
So lovingly, He holds them in his hands
Only God knows, just what they could have been
Nor pick a flower blowing in the wind
She will never climb up to sit on Daddy's knee
Never spend a summer day with her best friend
She will never bake cookies with Mommy
Never know what it's like to be 16
Never shear her love with that special someone
Never have the family of her childhood dreams
He will never celebrate his first birthday
You will never hear him call your name out loud
He will never run across the grassy meadow
Nor will he be the little boy that makes you proud
He will never go fishing with Daddy
Nor have the joy of buying his first car
He will never get to father his own family
Nor hear his little boy wish upon a star
Day by day and one by one, we're killing our future
By the thousands every day across the land
Can you tell me what has happened to America?
Is there anyone who dares to take a stand?
We have the blood of little children on our hands
But in Heaven, God is picking up the pieces
Of the countless treasures we have thrown away
While slowly he's reshaping and re-molding
Those precious little helpless lumps of clay
So lovingly, He holds them in his hands
Only God knows, just what they could have been
Credits
Writer(s): Mencer Sheldon Wade
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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