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