A Song of the Women

The old bards are singing their war hero songs

But I can’t believe that the men are all gone

I know that they’re valiant and courageous and brave

But here in the village the silence is grave.

 

So give me your hand and lets fall to our knees

And pray for our heros that they may believe

Let all of our fighters return to their homes

And safely we’ll dwell in the land we once roamed.

 

Now let us be vigilant to hear their steps

The day will arrive and we must dress our best

Not all of our brothers and sons will come home

So we must prepare to wail and to moan.

 

The wood for the pyres is cut and stacked high

The priest is well-tended and waits by and by

Our hearts which have waited are anxious and grim

But we will be steadfast and wait for our kin.

 

So ready your hearts and steady your hands

Do not begrudge those reunited again

Though weeping and wailing we know we must stay

And love our whole village so every day.

 

Come home father and come home son

Speak to us brother as you have done

Watch them o Lord we hope and we pray

And give us our legs for our darkest day.

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