Spice
StewardshipPeaceIntergityCommunityEquality
Listen, children, to a storyRicky was a young boy
He had a heart of stone
Lived 9 to 5 and he worked his
Fingers to the bone
Just barely out of school
Came from the edge of town
Fought like a switchblade
So no one could take him down, no
He had no money
Oh, no good at home
He walked the streets a soldier and
He fought the world alone
And now it's
18 and life you got it
18 and life you know
Your crime is time and it's
18 and life to go
18 and life you got it
18 and life you know
Your crime is time and it's
18 and life to go
That was written long ago
'Bout a kingdom on a mountain
And the valley-folk below
On the mountain was a treasure
Buried deep beneath the stone
And the valley-people swore
They'd have it for their very own
Go ahead and hate your neighbor
Go ahead and cheat a friend
Do it in the name of heaven
You can justify it in the end
There won't be any trumpets blowing
Come the judgment day
On the bloody morning after
One tin soldier rides away
So the people of the valley
Sent a message up the hill
Asking for the buried treasure
Tons of gold for which they'd kill
It came an answer from the mountain
With our brothers we will share
All the secrets of our mountain
All the riches buried there
Go ahead and hate your neighbor
Go ahead and cheat a friend
Do it in the name of heaven
You can justify it in the end
There won't be any trumpets blowing
Come the judgment day
On the bloody morning after
One tin soldier rides away
Now the valley cried with anger
"Mount your horses! Draw your sword!"
And they killed the mountain-people
So they won their just reward
Now they stood beside the treasure
On the mountain, dark and red
Turned the stone and looked beneath it
"Peace on Earth" was all it said
Go ahead and hate your neighbor
Go ahead and cheat a friend
Do it in the name of heaven
You can justify it in the end
There won't be any trumpets blowing
Come the judgment day
On the bloody morning after
One tin soldier rides away
Go ahead and hate your neighbor
Go ahead and cheat a friend
Do it in the name of heaven
You can justify it in the end
There won't be any trumpets blowing
Come the judgment day
On the bloody morning after
One tin soldier rides away