In days of deepest
darkness,
of famine and of drought
of famine and of drought
A hundred thousand
saviours
began to walk about
began to walk about
They went
preaching on the mountains,
they went knocking on the doors
they went knocking on the doors
Gathering
disciples for the army of the poor
Their song of
course was freedom,
their banner one of hope
their banner one of hope
Their souls were
bound together by a mile of fraying rope
Their uniforms
were rags found in Salvation Army stores
Now onwards to Jerusalem, the army of the
poor
A hundred thousand
deaf and dumb found that they could talk
A hundred thousand
cripples took up their beds and walked
A king, two popes,
three cardinals, and fifty seven whores
All joined the
holy cavalcade, the army of the poor
Well blind men
followed blindly, and others in despair
And some of course
for money, and some in wheelchairs
Even deaf men
followed after, for all could hear the roar
And the weeping,
and the wailing, of the army of the poor
There were those
who followed only being too afraid to stay
And those who saw
so many, well, it had to be the way
There were those
who went through boredom, & those who weren’t too sure
But joined the
swelling numbers of the army of the poor
There was one
among this number who claimed he knew the truth
And he preached it
so insistently, on every rock and roof
He nailed it to
the windows, he stamped it on the floor
A thousand more
surrendered to the army of the poor
"I've come to
take the faithful, I've come to take the true
I've come to take
the innocent, but the guilty ones will do
I've come to take
the children, but there's always room for more
Frankly we'll take
anyone in the army of the poor
"Come follow
me, come follow me, form into a pack
Blind men nearest
to the front and lepers at the back
If you're black or
gay or Jewish, or simply insecure
Come weave the
royal banner in the army of the poor"
So they headed for
Jerusalem, left Europe
at their backs
A half a million
sinners were left dead upon the tracks
Plus several
million others, it was hard to tell for sure
But anyway they
wouldn't join the army of the poor
On they journeyed,
eastwards, charting by the sun
Looking out for
mirages, rejoicing at each one
Till awakened by
illusion on some far and distant shore
Now dead men weave
the banners in the army of the poor
Stay quiet in your
beds tonight, the darkness you may trust
The men who came
to save your souls have vanished into dust
Sleep peaceful in
your bed tonight, feel grateful and secure
Thank God the
world has now been saved, from the army of the poor
You can find David Prashker at:
If
you would like to include "The Army of the Poor" in your repertoire,
either for paid public performance or to record for commercial
purposes, or if you would like to re-use the recordings attached to this
blog-page for commercial purposes, contact
argaman@theargamanpress.com.
Use of this song, and/or these recordings, for
non-commercial purposes, is not simply permitted but invited.
Words and music by David Prashker
Copyright © 2014 David Prashker
All rights reserved
The Argaman Press
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