A Prayer to St. Peter

Let them in Peter  For they are very tired  Give them couches where the angels sleep  And light those fires  Let them wake whole again  To brand new dawns  Fired by the sun  Not war-times bloody guns  May their peace be deep  Remember where the broken bodies lie  God knows how young they were  To have to die  Give them things they like  Let them make some noise  Give dance hall bands not golden harps  To these our boys  Let them love Peter  For they've had no time  They should have bird songs and trees  And hills to climb  The taste of summer  And a ripened pear  And girls sweet as meadow wind  And flowing hair  And tell them how they are missed  But say not to fear  It's gonna be all right  With us down here