Deliver Me
©1978, 2003 Andrew Calhoun, recorded on Walk Me To the War and Staring at the Sun.
Wonderful seasons are used and past,
Wonderful seasons are over at last;
And now you must die, child,
Make it a gracious goodbye, child.
Mother deliver me,
Mother deliver me,
Mother deliver me now.
Mother deliver me now
Counting beats for the soldiers to go,
I lost track in the powerful snow;
"Oh, when should we go?"
"I'm afraid I don't know."
Father, deliver me...
The streets are filled with the almost grown,
I can't stand to be naked alone;
Rise when the morning bell rings, child,
Walk where the morning bird sings, child.
Lover, deliver me...
Heavy times and heavy pains,
Crying shames and singing stains;
Life in the hole,
Masks on the soul.
Brother, deliver me...
Dying seasons must wait to be torn ,
Wonderful children must wait to be born/
And now I must die, child
Make it a gracious goodbye, child
Child, deliver me
Child, deliver me
Child, deliver me now
Child, deliver me now