On Veteran's Day, I want to share with you a song that has been one of my favorites. Many of you know about the obsession love I have for Edwin McCain. The song, "Prayer to Saint Peter" is off of his Messenger album.
Little did I know, that this song was actually a poem written by Elma Dean in 1942. From Oakland, California, Elma realized that the war (WWII) was not going well for the US and the poem was written to convey her sorrow for the young men who were being killed, including some of her son's dearest friends.
The poem was originally converted to a song by John Gorka and then covered by Edwin.
On this Veteran's Day, let us remember to thank those Veterans whose eyes may not shine as bright as they once did, clouded by the haze of shrapnel and visions that we can never imagine. The one's in wheelchairs and hospital beds. The one's that wear the "Vietnam" hat and quietly walk by you. The one's that just returned home and have yet to learn what the aftermath of being a combat soldier is. Let us also remember those who gave their lives.
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
You know 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 as 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
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
You know God knows how young they were
To have to die
And tell them how they are missed
But say not to fear
It's gonna be all right
With us down here
It's gonna be all right
With us down here
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
You know 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 as 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
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
You know God knows how young they were
To have to die
And tell them how they are missed
But say not to fear
It's gonna be all right
With us down here
It's gonna be all right
With us down here
oh my goodness. tears.
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