Day Before We Went to War
All the pictures on the wall,
the sand lying on the floor.
The bed upstairs, still unmade.
The dust float in the light.
The people just left
all laughter and mess
forgetting this and that
and rushing back.
The front door open,
the music still playing in one room
down the hall
and towels on the floor.
And then it's quiet,
just the bees and birds.
The summer haze of the trees and the air
feeds it all, feeds it all.
We can all feel it
like a light hand on your back,
welcoming you.
We can all feel it
like a light hand on your back,
welcoming you
the day before we went to war.
The day before we went to war,
we can all feel it.
All the parasols and kids at play,
the sea so still and calm,
blue as the cloudless sky.
Just the gentle hum
of the summer's goings-on
broken by the sudden rush
of two planes flying low and fast
into the sun, into the sun.
We can all feel it
like a light hand on your back,
welcoming you.
We can all feel it
like a light hand on your back,
welcoming you
the day before we went to war.
The day before we went to war,
we can all feel it.
We can all feel it
like a light hand on your back,
welcoming you.
We can all feel it
like a light hand on your back,
welcoming you
the day before we went to war.
The day before we went to war.
The day before we went to war.
