Lyrics:
Through these fields of destruction
Baptisms of fire
Ive watched all your suffering
As the battles raged higher
And though they did hurt me so bad
In the fear and alarm
You did not desert me

riddle

If a man carried my burden,
He would break his back.
I am not rich,
But leave silver in my track

Yesterdays
Song Englishman in New York by Sting
Riddle A mirror