Weathered Statues

    Weathered statues...           Tin soldiers that march in our parks

                  Wrapped in yellow newsprint, on their benches in the dark

    Their faces filled with sadness, sorrow drawn from your nights

    Surviving on old glories but now the....    the glories have died

    Lonely men who are tortured...   once proud, but now forlorn

    Gnarled hands hold canes where,  their guns once were before

    Taunted by the children, who's parents lives he saved

    Forgotten by a state, whose leg in war he gave

    Silver gleams upon his chest, though sweat gleams on his brow

    Darker days and sable knights, who work upon his soul

    His honor flew away from him,  like pigeons on the wind

    Spending his last pennies,  on cheap wines and sin

    But still they make the soldiers... and soldiers still grow old
   (Pick slide...)
    Pump their minds with dignity, then let the young men go

   Another day, another statue...   falls out in the dawn

    Weathered statues...              Still march on and on