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They have in the hollow of their handkerchiefs
A little bit of fog
To hide their sorrow
When they cry into their hands...
We will never know very well
Why do children cry
Should tell them more often
What the farmers say
So cry, so don't cry like that
It makes the good Lord cry la la
It makes the good Lord cry
So cry, so don't cry like that
It makes the good Lord cry la la
It makes the good Lord cry...
This is how the peasants
Rock their unhappy children
That's what children believe
Wiping their big eyes
We will never know very well
Why do children cry
Should tell them more often
What the farmers say
So cry, so don't cry like that
It makes the good Lord cry la la
It makes the good Lord cry
So cry, so don't cry like that
It makes the good Lord cry la la
It makes the good Lord cry...
Since then I have learned of course
That the good Lord did not cry
At least not as often
Not as often as you think
But every time I see
Someone crying next to me
I can not stop
To gently sing to him
So cry, so don't cry like that
It makes the good Lord cry la la
It makes the good Lord cry
So cry, so don't cry like that
It makes the good Lord cry la la
It makes the good Lord cry
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