The Gates

The Gates                             September 1, 2009

If I left here tonight,
Will you still be here tomorrow?
If I go to war for Uncle Sam,
Will you still be standing by me?
If I were to be shot down by my foe,
Will you light a candle for me?
And when I got to Heaven in due time,
Would you come close to me?

Such sentimentalities rest upon the shoulders
Of the fair, the patriotic souled,
But one never really knows until they're in the breeze.
I face my life as if it were a whirling dervish,
And nobody's going to save me for me.
Hopefully, my baby's going to meet me at The Gates.

If I sit here before you now,
Will you rise and stand by me?
If I were to play my guitar for you, Sue,
Would you applaud as I serenaded your soul?
If I must enter the bus and leave for the fort,
Will you cry over me?
And if died over there in the combat zone,
Will you be waiting to meet me in Heaven?

Such sentimentalities rest upon the shoulders
Of the fair, the patriotic souled,
But one never really knows until they're in the breeze.
I face my life as if it were a whirling dervish,
And nobody's going to save me for me.
Hopefully, my baby's going to meet me at The Gates.