The Priest and the Iron Rain
Appears on: Souvenirs & Postcards
Lyrics:
Not the bombs have been falling
The last seven or eight days
I’m supposed to drive my ambulance
But with this iron rain
There’s simply no way
And I’m seeing guys who
Would kill their mothers
Start looking afraid
And my good friend Rinaldi
Still getting drunk but not laid
And they all grew up in the mountains
Just north of here
On the slopes and hills of Switzerland
Me, I grew up in Minnesota
And came here to get away from that
The priest he takes a ribbing
But we all know that he loves us
He may not have seen the fighting
But he knows well what the fight does
And I told him that I used to eb a praying man
And he told me he thinks that I still am
I said, “Priest, you know I am your friend,
But I’ve seen no prayers answered ’round hereâ€
Cause if they flew up to the mountains
Just north of here
They must have got shot down in Switzerland
Mine went up from Minnesota
And I came here to get away from them
So what’s the glory of dying?
Round here it all just looks like dying
And my friend, I can’t keep from trying
To believe it isn’t real
But we all know that it’s real
Well, every day she writes a letter
And she’s carrying my baby
And I don’t want to be a father
But I won’t let it end that way
So Priest, my friend, will you let me in
How do you keep from going crazy?
I don’t talk like this to anyone
But I can’t hide, and I can’t run
And it’s no use asking what it means
So tell me that my kid grows up in the
Mountains just north of here
And I get married on the
Hills of Switzerland
Right now I feel like Minnesota
And I came here to get away from that
Priest, I came here to get away from that
Notes on the song:
An embellishing of the relationship between Hardy and the priest in Hemingway’s “A Farewell to Arms.”
Purchase: iTunes Store
Words and Music: Andrew Osenga
© 2004 Andrew Osenga wrote these Songs (admin. by the Loving Company)
Elsewhere: MusicBrainz
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