The baby blinks her eyes as the sun falls from the sky She feels the stings of a thousand fires as the city around her dies Some sleep beneath the rubble, some wake to a different world From the crying babe will grow a laughing girl. Ten summers fade to autumn, ten winters' snows have passed She's a child of dreams and dances, she's a racer strong and fast But the headaches come ever more often and the dizziness always returns And the word that she hears is leukemia, and it burns. CHORUS: Cranes over Hiroshima, white and red and gold Flicker in the sunlight like a million vanished souls I will fold these cranes of paper to a thousand one by one And I'll fly away when I am done. Her ancestors knew the legend--if you make a thousand cranes From squares of colored paper, it will take the pain away With loving hands she folds them, six hundred forty-four Till the morning her trembling fingers can't fold anymore. CHORUS Her friends did not forget her--crane after crane they made Until they reached a thousand and laid them upon her grave People from everywhere gathered, together a prayer they said And they wrote the words in granite so none can forget: FINAL CHORUS: This is our cry, this is our prayer, peace in the world.
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Copy to Clipboard: The baby blinks her eyes as the sun falls from the sky She feels the stings of a thousand fires as the city around her dies Some sleep beneath the rubble, some wake to a different world From the crying babe will grow a laughing girl. Ten summers fade to autumn, ten winters' snows have passed She's a child of dreams and dances, she's a racer strong and fast But the headaches come ever more often and the dizziness always returns And the word that she hears is leukemia, and it burns. CHORUS: Cranes over Hiroshima, white and red and gold Flicker in the sunlight like a million vanished souls I will fold these cranes of paper to a thousand one by one And I'll fly away when I am done. Her ancestors knew the legend--if you make a thousand cranes From squares of colored paper, it will take the pain away With loving hands she folds them, six hundred forty-four Till the morning her trembling fingers can't fold anymore. CHORUS Her friends did not forget her--crane after crane they made Until they reached a thousand and laid them upon her grave People from everywhere gathered, together a prayer they said And they wrote the words in granite so none can forget: FINAL CHORUS: This is our cry, this is our prayer, peace in the world.
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