A Prayer to St. Peter Edwin McCain

Let them in Peter, for they are very tired;
Give them couches where the angels sleep and light those fires.
Let them wake a whole again to brand new dawns fired by the
sun not war time's bloddy guns. And may their peace be deep
Remember where the broken bodies lie --
God knows how young they were to have to die!
Well, God knows how young they were to have to die!
Give them things they like. Let them make some noise.
Give dance hall bands not golden harps, to these are boys,
Let them love Peter, -- for they have had no time --
They should have bird songs and trees, and hills to climb
The taste of Summer in a ripened pear,
Girls sweet as meadow wind, with flowing hair --
And Tell them how they are missed. But say not to fear;
It's going to be alright with us down here.

Let them in Peter, for they are very tired;
Give them couches where the angels sleep and light those fires.
Let them wake a whole again to brand new dawns fired by the
sun not war time's bloddy guns. And may their peace be deep
Remember where the broken bodies lie --
God knows how young they were to have to die!
Well, God knows how young they were to have to die!

Tell them how they are missed. But say not to fear;
It's going to be alright with us down here.

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