We want our brothers back

But here, under the sun,
where events can't be undone;
once superstition's spent -
You gotta know,
we want our brothers back.

The hurt came down
from the clear blue sky.
The sands of time
went rushing by.

It came as a shock,
we'd shut our eyes.
Is this all that's left,
just a slow good-bye?

The curators frown
and they wax abstract.
But, man, if you've found love
what could matter more than that?