My Friend Paul

I last saw Paul in sixty-nine, he was nineteen now fifty-five
Now cheap scotch and cigarettes, God bless the man who can’t forget
The deck was stacked and we were kids, and that big black hole they threw us in
We walked the walk and rolled the dice, so naïve and we paid the price
On that night we got pinned down, fear and chaos all around
Incoming rounds were deafening, smoke so thick we couldn’t see
I took a hit square in the chest, all busted up, a bloody mess
Paul squeezed my hand and I could hear him say, «hey buddy you’re going to be
okay»
But soon I couldn’t feel the pain and Paul kept calling out my name
What secrets now would be revealed, as I rose above the battlefield
Just one voice, one candles flame, just one link in the chain
Just one grain in a sea of sand, mysteries we can’t understand
They beat him down, they wore him out, they used him up, they spit him out
With empty pockets and his beat up Ford, Paul headed home to Baltimore
He stopped by to see my folks, he showed them some poems that I wrote
As tears rolled down my mother’s face, he kissed her cheek and walked away
Just one voice, one candles flame, just one link in the chain
Just one grain in a sea of sand, mysteries we can’t understand
The years went by like a shooting star, Paul never left old Baltimore
Now, cheap scotch and cigarettes, God bless the man the who can’t forget