Depression Support Group

In Flanders Fields
by John McCrae, May 1915


In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Healer
Composer: Todd Rundgren

My child, I had a visitation in my sleep last night
Something was calling to me from a blinding light
And told me not to fear it, hear it

It said, "It's time to make the world a little wiser.
There are enough destroyers and criticizers.
The world needs a healer, healer."

And I awoke, my heart was pounding
'Cause it was not like me to have such dreams
But I could not fall asleep for wondering
Why the messenger had come to me

My child, I am too old and I am set in my ways
But now I realize just what the voice conveyed
You will be a healer, healer

Rejoice, rejoice, rejoice
Because the healer comes
The healer comes

Your destiny I lay before you
But then the choice was never yours nor mine
When it's time to take this burden on you
Then I will take the one you leave behind

Ambling madly all over the town
The call to arms you liken to a whisper,
I liken to a radio.
You were a brickbat, a bowery tuff, so rough
They culled you from a cartoon
Pulled out of your pantaloons.

But you,
My brother in arms,
I'd rather I'd lose my limbs
Than let you come to harm.

But you ,
My bombazine doll,
The bullets may singe your skin
And the mortars may fall.

But I,
I never felt so much life
Than tonight
Huddled in the trenches,
Gazing on the battle field,
Our rifles blaze away;
We blaze away.

Corporal Bradley of regiment five
In proud array standing by the bathing
Soldiers and the stevedores.
We laid on the mattress and tumbled to sleep
Our eyes aligned, swaddled in our civies
Cradled in our dungarees.

But you,
My brother in arms,
I'd rather I'd lose my limbs
Than let you come to harm.

But you,
My bombazine doll,
The bullets may singe your skin
And the mortars may fall.

But I,
I never felt so much life
Than tonight
Huddled in the trenches,
Gazing on the battle field
Our rifles blaze away;
We blaze away.
We blaze away.
We blaze away.

Not to be angry. Not to fear. Not to hate. To be kind. To be patient. To have courage. To be strong and gentle.

If we are not here for these, then why are we here? And to love is the greatest gift of all.

Be a blessing. Be nice to everyone. Just for Today.

Oh how do you do, young Willy McBride
Do you mind if I sit here down by your graveside
And rest for a while in the warm summer sun
I've been walking all day, and I'm nearly done
And I see by your gravestone you were only nineteen
When you joined the great fallen in 1916
Well I hope you died quick
And I hope you died clean
Or Willy McBride, was is it slow and obscene

Did they beat the drums slowly
Did they play the fife lowly
Did they sound the death march as they lowered you down
Did the band play the last post and chorus
Did the pipes play the flowers of the forest

And did you leave a wife or a sweetheart behind
In some loyal heart is your memory enshrined
And though you died back in 1916
To that loyal heart you're forever nineteen
Or are you a stranger without even a name
Forever enshrined behind some old glass pane
In an old photograph torn, tattered, and stained
And faded to yellow in a brown leather frame

Did they beat the drums slowly
Did they play the fife lowly
Did they sound the death march as they lowered you down
Did the band play the last post and chorus
Did the pipes play the flowers of the forest

The sun shining down on these green fields of France
The warm wind blows gently and the red poppies dance
The trenches have vanished long under the plow
No gas, no barbed wire, no guns firing now
But here in this graveyard that's still no mans land
The countless white crosses in mute witness stand
To man's blind indifference to his fellow man
And a whole generation were butchered and damned

Did they beat the drums slowly
Did they play the fife lowly
Did they sound the death march as they lowered you down
Did the band play the last post and chorus
Did the pipes play the flowers of the forest

And I can't help but wonder oh Willy McBride
Do all those who lie here know why they died
Did you really believe them when they told you the cause
Did you really believe that this war would end wars
Well the suffering, the sorrow, the glory, the shame
The killing and dying it was all done in vain
Oh Willy McBride it all happened again
And again, and again, and again, and again

Did they beat the drums slowly
Did they play the fife lowly
Did they sound the death march as they lowered you down
Did the band play the last post and chorus
Did the pipes play the flowers of the forest

the soldier fights for the hippys rights to protest against that soldier
the soldier fights for the politions rights to send that soldier to war
the soldier fights for buisness mans rights to make money
the soldier fights for the policemans rights to arrest that soldier
the soldier fights for school kids right to know about past soldiers
the soldier fights to so that you may all sleep at night
the soldier fights for religion so that you may all belive what you wish
And yet the soldier fights on
the soldier fights for his flag, for his country, for his life