**! we were strong, we were swift, we were brave.
Youth was a challenge, and Life was a fight.
All that was best in us gladly we gave,
Sprang from the rally, and leapt for the height.
Smiling is Love in a foam of Spring flowers:
Harden our hearts to him -- on let us press!
Oh, what a triumph and pride shall be ours!
See where it beacons, the star of success!

Cares seem to crowd on us -- so much to do;
New fields to conquer, and time's on the wing.
Grey hairs are showing, a wrinkle or two;
Somehow our footstep is losing its spring.
Pleasure's forsaken us, Love ceased to smile;
Youth has been funeralled; Age travels fast.
Sometimes we wonder: is it worth while?
There! we have gained to the summit at last.

Aye, we have triumphed! Now must we haste,
Revel in victory . . . why! what is wrong?
Life's choicest vintage is flat to the taste --
Are we too late? Have we laboured too long?
Wealth, power, fame we hold . . . ah! but the truth:
Would we not give this vain glory of ours
For one mad, glad year of glorious youth,
Life in the Springtide, and Love in the flowers.

12 am
Choose a profound song,
Play it on repeat,
Study feverishly while the song plays.
Go away, Sleep!

2 am
Let the song still play on,
Guiding your thoughts to the very deep,
Telling your heart that the night's
Too young still, to sleep.

4 am
The loop is never-ending,
Mind numbed by racing at top speed,
Yet thoughts and memories charge on,
Musically gnawing away your sleep

The birds have awoken now**
Nothing feels real anymore,
Life/love/promises-you want none to keep,
As soon as you "Stop" the haunting music,
Realising again tonight, that all that matters, actually,
Is a beautiful Sleep.

Written by Arlo Guthrie and Pete Seeger; adapted by Mike Essig.


Halfway around the world tonight
In a strange and foreign land
A soldier packs his memories
As he leaves Afghanistan

And back home, they don't know too much
There was just no way to tell
You know* you had to be there
To know that war was hell

And there won't be any victory parades
For those that's coming back
They'll fly them in at midnight
And unload the body sacks

And the living will be walking down
A long and lonely road
Because nobody seems to care these days
When a soldier makes it home

Somewhere in America tonight
In this strange and foreign land
A soldier unpacks memories
That he saved from Vietnam

They said it wasn't easy
Just another job, well done
Then the government in Saigon fell
To the sounds of rebel guns

And the faces of the comrades
Who were blown out of the sky
Leaves you bitter and disgusted
That they didn't have to die

The old men who planned that war
You know they all died safe in bed
With none of their rich and privileged sons
Ending up torn or dead

Back home they didn't know too much
There was just no way to tell
You know you had to be there
to know that war was hell

And there wasn't any big parades
For those that made it back
They flew them home in secret
and told them to make tracks

And the living were left walking down
A long and lonely road
Because nobody seemed to care back then
When a soldier made it home

The night is coming quickly
And the stars are on their way
As I stare into the evening
Looking for the words to say

That I saw the lonely soldier
Just a boy that's far from home
And I saw that I was just like him
While upon this earth I roam

And there may not be any big parades
If I ever make it back
As I come home under cover
To a world that can't keep track

Of the heroes who have fallen
Let alone the ones who roam
Guess that's why nobody seems to care
When a soldier makes it home