The “B” Side, Getting Serious, and Revision

June 18, 2015 § 2 Comments

When I write lyrics, I don’t like to revise or rewrite. It is almost as if I am impatient to be done with them and move on to the next song.

Lately, though, I have begun to revise more of what I write. I don’t know if it is a sign I am finally maturing (albeit slightly) as a person and as a writer or simply that the original line was so bad even I knew it had to be changed.

In my last post, I offered up some lyrics dealing with one soldier’s adjustment to life after returning from war. Today’s offering deals a bit with the aftermath of war from the perspective of the person left behind. As always, comments, thoughts, and suggestions are welcome.

Water From An Empty Well

Just a spot on the map
Where Uncle Davey fell
Aunt Mary kept all his letters
They all spoke of war as hell

Wondered if he’d make it back alive
But soon his letters gave up hope
And when Aunt Mary got the news, she didn’t cry
Already knew she’d have to cope

We remember those who fell
Those who died marching through Hell
What of those they left behind?
Do they ever cross your mind?
Left behind to pick up all the pieces
Like fetching water from an empty well

Each day, she gently dusts the medals
50 years since Davey fell
Even now, her heart still skips a beat
When she hears the front doorbell

Though he didn’t make it back alive
He lives on in Mary still
In all those years, she hasn’t thought about another man
And I doubt she ever will

He lost all his tomorrows
She lives in yesterdays
He gave his life, but somehow
It seems she’s the one who pays
He is forever young
She’s simply growing old
The silent victim
Her story still untold

We remember those who fell
Those who died marching through Hell
What of those they left behind?
Do they ever cross your mind?
Left behind to pick up all the pieces
Like fetching water from an empty well

© 2015 Walt Huntsman. All rights reserved.

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