Brother Paul Lyrics
Sing a song for the sunrise on Monday
Tuesday is a song for the moon
Wednesday is a song for the stars that keep shining
Through the middle of the afternoon
Thursday is a song about lightning
Sparks from the hammer of Thor
Friday’s a warm fireside conversation
Saturday’s neon galore
But Sunday is a song for the light in his eyes
Blue and white flags
What a tender surprise
Sleep now, my brother
You’ll be early to rise
With the faithful and strong
Mindful and wise
You could not see these things in yourself
Your heaven got painted like hell
You played the game hard
You played the game well
Israel
I remember those long nights in Deutschland
We could still feel the pain in those streets
But a bottle of something
And some stories of Home
Would usually put us to sleep
Unbalanced we made damn good soldiers
Unguarded, we made damn good friends
You took the long way
I took the shortcut
The pain cut us both in the end
Now Sunday is a song for the light in his eyes
Blue and white flags
What a tender surprise
Sleep now, my brother
You’ll be early to rise
With the faithful and strong
Mindful and wise
You could not see these things in yourself
You heaven got painted like hell
You played the game hard, Paul
You played the game well
Israel
Listen a sample of Brother Paul
Mother’s Song
She’s the star of my earliest memories
Kiddy pools and catching bees
Saying thank you and asking please
Just because it was the right thing to do
She taught me not to quit
How to love
And not to hit
And that the deepest darkest despair
Was no match for the power of prayer
And she loved me whether I was right or wrong
Whether I was weak or strong
When I was there, all the times I was gone
Whoa, whoa, whoa
This is my mother song.
And on the eighth day
God look down from above
And said this place ain’t gonna make it
Without a mother’s love
So he created
Within woman
A special kind of understanding
Because God knew without a mother
Even Jesus Christ
Might miss something truly vital
About self sacrifice
This world can turn just as cold as Ice
But it melts beneath the mother’s touch
And she loved me whether I was right or wrong
Whether I was weaker or strong
When I was there, all the times I was gone
Whoa, whoa, whoa
This is my mother’s song
Now my mother‘s kisses
Could heal bee stings and stuffy noses
I’ve seen her treat a handful of dandelions
Like they were a dozen roses
She was tender
She was strong
Sometimes patient for far too long
But when she erred
She erred with Grace
To the highest side of her faith
And she loved me whether I was right or wrong
Whether I was weak or strong
When I was there all these years, I’ve been gone
Whoa, whoa, whoa
This is my mother’s song.
Brother Paul
A requiem for a fellow soldier and musician, Paul Rich. He and I served in Landstuhl Germany where we made music in the barracks with Jay Treadway the co-creator of Metaphor, the single that also came out (finally) this year. Paul played the Saxaphone and helped weed out the bullshit lyrics at times. A song of loving remembrance.
