He was just 18

When he saw her smiling face

As she danced along the streets of Montreal

And in 1916

She gave her hand for him to hold

In the church beneath the ancient city walls



But now he lies awake, staring in the dark

At the eyes of of million tiny gods

And when the sun goes up, they'll go over the top, for good....



So he writes her Black Letters

By the time you read these words

There will be no more war

There will be only peace



He was her only son

And she rocked him back and forth

In the cradle of the tall Alberta grain

And he was scarce a man

When he answered the call

Left her crying as as he stepped onto the train



And she was all alone, staring at the moon

When his body hit the sand beneath Calais

And when the sun came up, his words were on the steps for her

And she read his black letters...



The day will come

Where we look into the eyes

Of a fate that is much greater than us all

And by the setting sun

We'll write the words we'd wish to echo

In the hearts of our loved ones should we fall

Those thin dark lines, so delicate and fine,

Like a road that could show the way back home

But at the ending of the day, our memories will fade for good

Except for our black letters