The grave that they dug him had flowers
|
Gathered from the hillsides in bright summer colors,
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And the brown earth bleached white at the edge of his gravestone.
|
He's gone.
|
|
When the wars of our nation did beckon,
|
A man barely twenty did answer the calling.
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Proud of the trust that he placed in our nation,
|
He's gone,
|
But Eternity knows him, and it knows what we've done.
|
|
And the rain fell like pearls on the leaves of the flowers
|
Leaving brown, muddy clay where the earth had been dry.
|
And deep in the trench he waited for hours,
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As he held to his rifle and prayed not to die.
|
|
But the silence of night was shattered by fire
|
As guns and grenades blasted sharp through the air.
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And one after another his comrades were slaughtered.
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In morgue of Marines, alone standing there.
|
|
He crouched ever lower, ever lower with fear.
|
"They can't let me die! The can't let me die here!
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I'll cover myself with the mud and the earth.
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I'll cover myself! I know I'm not brave!
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The earth! the earth! the earth is my grave."
|
|
When the wars of our nation did beckon,
|
A man barely twenty did answer the calling.
|
Proud of the trust that he placed in our nation,
|
He's gone.
|
|
-----------------
|
The Grave
|
| George Michael |
