The soldier stood and
faced God
Which must always
come to pass.
He hoped his shoes
were shining
Just as brightly as
his brass.
Steps forward now,
soldier,
How shall I deal with
you ?
Have you always
turned the other cheek ?
To my church you have
been true
The soldier squared
his shoulders and said
No lord, I guess I ain’t
Because those of us
who carry guns
Can’t always be a
saint.
I have had to work
most Sundays
And at times my talk
was tough
And sometimes I have
been violent
Because the world is
awfully rough
But I never took a
penny
That wasn’t mine to
keep
Though I worked a lot
of overtime
When the bills got
just too steep
Though at times I
shook with fear
And some times, God
forgive me
I have wept unmanly
tears.
I know I don’t deserve
a place
Among the people here
They never wanted me
around
Except to chain their
fears.
And I never passed a
cry for help,
If you have place for
me here, lord,
It needn’t be so
grand
I never expected or
had too much
But if you don’t I
will understand
Here was silence all
around the thrown
Where the saint had
often trod
As the soldier waited
quietly
For the judgment of
God.
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