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Blood and Tears (Revised)


mr_blue_owl

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BLOOD AND TEARS

 

An old man cries, an old man bleeds

For happiness he’d sowed the seeds

Blood and tears for the nothing years

When nothing grew except for weeds

---

The old man sits at the table

Lifts a note from the faded mail

And his mind drifts back in time

A padded cell, a racking wail

 

‘That was ever my true friend

Curled up howling on the floor

They had thrown away the key

After slamming shut the door’

 

He feels tears run down his face

As he sniffs a perfumed page

And his mind drifts back in time

A pretty girl quite young of age

 

‘That was ever my true love

I could not have loved her more

But she left without goodbye

Although her love had gone before’

 

His face is frowning as he holds

The crested envelope still sealed

And his mind drifts back in time

A muddy trench, a foreign field

 

‘That was ever our true cause

The resentment that we bore

As so many comrades perished

In that pointless bloody war’

 

He sweeps aside the letter

A splinter spears his thumb

And his mind drifts back in time

A little boy, a back street slum

 

‘That was ever my pure hell

Locked behind the cellar door

A childhood full of misery

Sleeping on the pebbled floor’

 

 

And he sees there at his feet

A dark stain of blood and tears

And his mind drifts back in time

Faceless people, wasted years

 

‘That was ever my sad life

It should have been much more

But now I’ve left it far too late

To try and even up the score’

---

Old men bleed and old men cry

They fear the time that’s passing by

Blood and tears for the living years

When living dreams fade out and die

And he lays down his head

On a pillow of paper memories

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