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I raise my glass

I Raise My glass.

I raise my hand and salute them
Those boys who fought the wars.
I give them my good wishes
I could not praise them more.

I weep warm tears for women folk
Who were left at home to cry
And I gnash my teeth for the one that weeps
For a son that had to die.

And I raise my sword to the evil one
Who thinks that he has power
The lion sleeps, these quaking heaps
Well some day they must cower.

And I raise my glass to the son of God
That he laid down the way.
And I hope it’s true that he’ll come back
And make it all okay.

Then I’ll hear me well those birds in song
I’ll smell those blossoms all day long
And I’ll just kind of sing my song
And to Heaven I will pray.

Socrares April 28 2004.


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