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A Prayer to St. Peter
Let them in Peter For they are very tired Give them couches where the angels sleep And light those fires Let them wake whole again To brand new dawns Fired by the sun Not war-times bloody guns May their peace be deep Remember where the broken bodies lie God knows how young they were To have to die Give them things they like Let them make some noise Give dance hall bands not golden harps To these our boys Let them love Peter For they've had no time They should have bird songs and trees And hills to climb The taste of summer And a ripened pear And girls sweet as meadow wind And flowing hair And tell them how they are missed But say not to fear It's gonna be all right With us down here
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