Salvation Army of the Dead

November 8, 2006 at 5:24 pm (Blue Kansas)

 

They all return here
All the band members in their uniforms
Moving quietly down the dark empty streets
Their instruments held loosely at their sides
Their frayed leather bibles close to their hearts
And every word is written by God
And every word is true
But the voices are frail, the instruments worn
The stray person walking out at night
Hears only a vague rustling of the wind
And doesn’t see the thick shadows
On the crumbling brick walls
All night long they march
Storefront after storefront, street after street
As one by one the lights fade
In the upstairs apartments
And the tenants drift off into sleep
Only then
In the midst of endless dreams
Are the first hymns heard

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