By the time you read this letter
|
I'll be far away from here
|
I've left to find my fortune
|
outside of the weir
|
the world is not this island
|
to dig and die for gold
|
and how can I stay here
|
with australia full of gold
|
|
father won't forgive me
|
so mother don't you cry
|
for one day I'll return
|
with my head held high
|
for now keep that book
|
its words pulled my bowstring
|
and when I read them
|
for me changed everything
|
|
words on a page can weigh a ton
|
when the past is not undone
|
|
I stowed away on a ship
|
that sailed the western sea
|
city to the outback
|
was all I'd read it'd be
|
the war broke out in '41
|
I joined like every other son
|
and came back from rabaul
|
with my life and an empty gun
|
|
when I came back to canada
|
there were voices in my head
|
they spoke not with words
|
but with the faces of the dead
|
the strongest river current
|
can change its flow by force
|
but words brought me to the war
|
and changed my path and course
|
|
now as an old man
|
I think of all the things I've done
|
'cause I've lived my whole life
|
like a bullet from a gun
|
I look back at myself
|
and when I was 21
|
and when I'd read that book
|
of foreign lands and all or none
|
I wonder if my heirs
|
will think of what I've done
|
and if the sins of the father
|
will visit the son
|
|
-----------------
|
The Weight Of Words
|
| The Town Pants |
