O Arlington!

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Eric Delore

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The passion of the fallen soldier, let us not forget,
The life and lovers left behind at the bayonet.
The tiny babies never lifted high into the air,
Rough fingers never runnin' through their downy hair.

O Arlington! Won't you help me find my son?
I'm lost out in your rows, where the price of freedom grows,
Where the winds of sadness blow.

And the pups who wait not knowin' by the garden fence,
Mercifully not understanding where their buddy went.
And the clothes that never tumble to the bedroom floor,
Young lovers intertwining, reaching out for more,
More and more and more.

So many flags unfurled! Won't you help me find my girl?
I'm lost out in your rows, where the price of freedom grows,
Where the winds of sadness blow.

Sitting high up on the mantle, there's a snapshot before the war.
Mama dusts it oh so gently, then it crashes to the floor.
Mama drops to her knees, she says, "please god, please..."
"Give me just one night, give me just one day,"
"Like before, like before."

And the old folks without comfort in their dying beds,
Memories of having laid a child to rest instead.
The endless rows at Arlington, of alabaster stones,
Mark the place where we might find their hopes and dreams and bones,
Never to come home.
Hopes and dreams and bones.

O Arlington! Won't you help me find my son?
So many flags unfurled! Won't you help me find my girl?
I'm lost out in your rows, where the price of freedom grows,
Where only the green grass knows.
Where the winds of sadness blow.

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