He was downtown yesterday staring at the courthouse door
Sitting like a fool in the rain.
It was not his disposition to feel the judge had done him wrong
He’d done his part and promises weren’t kept but hey, ok.
They said it was hard to prove that all he alleged was true.
And law don’t reach beyond the sea-to-shining-sea, plus, you know, the economy.
He turned in his chair and rolled down to the VA square
For a drink and a smoke antidote.
He got the news from the doctor and a ticket to the USO.
That’s more than you could say for all the grunts that he left there.
Further, we’re bound to find this waiver of rights that you signed.
Don’t you see how unjust it could be if we let you break your promise now?
There’s warm air that blows from a vent in the station lot.
Makes a good place to sleep when it’s cold.
Where you can watch the people passing back and forth to God-knows-where,
Places he’s sure he’ll never see again.
To families and driveways and beds, to children and their stories.
To trust in the faith that history’s arc is long, but it bends to justice.
credits
from Where the Lone Pine Stands,
released November 5, 2015
lyrics & tune: d. schramm
guitar & vocals: d. schramm
dobro: r. wittke
From Cork, Ireland, Lewis Barfoot writes mystic, majestic songs derived from regional folk, with an ambient music aura. Bandcamp New & Notable Dec 11, 2023