The Hill of Crosses

Beneath the sun, a peasant heart
 A land where bitter armies marched
 But here even serpents have their day
 Crosses and flowers bloom and stay
 Past our pain and our losses
 when we climb the hill of crosses
 March through death to where love is
 When you climb the hill of crosses
 Murder turns the sky to rust
 Children's faces crumble to dust
 Tyrants wax and tyrants wane
 The tree bends but still remains
 Past our pain and our losses
 when we climb the hill of crosses
 March through death to where love is
 When you climb the hill of crosses
 Cross-crowned with the sun's rays
 They tore it down but it grew again
 With Motherland blood grows the grain
 Rye waves and harvest will come again
 Past our pain and our losses
 when we climb the hill of crosses
 March through death to where love is
 When you climb the hill of crosses...