Nodding tho the lamp's lit lownod for passers underground. To and fro she's darningand the land is weeping red and pale. Weeping yarn from algiers. weeping yarn from algiers. Weaving tho the eyes are palewhat will rend will also mend. The sifting cloth is bindingand the dream she weaves will never end. For we're marching toward algiers. for we're marching toward algiers. Lullaby tho baby's gone. lullaby a broken song. Ohthe cradle was our call. when it rocked we carried on. And we marched on toward algiers. for we're marching toward algiers We're still marching for algiers. marchingmarching for algiers. Not to hail a barren sky. sifting cloth is weeping red. The mourning veil is waving high a field of stars and tears we've shed. In the sky a broken flagchildren wave and raise their arms. We'll be gone but they'll go on and on and on and on and on.