Monuments

this is where it all starts: someone’s got a stake
or they owe it to their family or there’s big money to make
so you sign on for the good fight and a bunch of them do, too
and y’all have at each other the way y’all were trained to do

and if you die you go to heaven
there’s a special place reserved
with a flag and stone, and it’s holy ground
for everyone who served

if you come back you’re hero, and they give you a parade
if you’re lucky, there’s a monument for the graves you made
well there’s too many monuments, there’s too many shapes
too many martyrs, too many mistakes

so let’s no pray for our boys
easy prayers are all for naught
instead pray for our enemies
and love like you were taught

desperation lingers in the shadow of defeat
it grows where there’s no dignity and simmers in the heat
if flowers where there’s poverty, explodes where there’s a spark
but i have faith that love can kill it, and take away the mark
well i’m searching for an answer, but there’s not any kind of clue
‘cause there’s never rhyme or reason for what desperate people do

why prayers for peace are ridiculed
i’ll never understand
if there’s a god, well he must roll his eyes
at the way we love our fellow man

© David Stoddard 2003