Somewhere near the edge of town lies the potters ground where the nameless go to rest/Forgotten in life forgotten in death/Victims of a world that will not slow its pace/Not a tear was shed/No stone to mark their place

In this world that does not yield/Who lies in the potters field/Oh in this world that does not yield nobody knows/Who lies in the potters field

There's heroes from forgotten wars and immigrants who washed upon the shore/The nameless children from another century and men who died in penitentiary/Stranger bedfellows cannot be found be they share eternity beneath this hallowed ground