By: Paul S. Cilwa Viewed: 7/21/2018
Posted: 8/13/2017
Topics/Keywords: #ManWhoIsn'tThere #Music #Original Page Views: 415
Track 5 from my 1997 album 'The Man Who Isn't There'.

The chorus of this song came to me years ago as I was driving near the Manassas Battlefield Park in Virginia. Only recently did I understand what it meant: That we create our own realities, no matter how much we complain and insist and whine that it's someone else's fault.

(For Every Tree) There Is A Soldier

By Paul S. Cilwa

Lyrics

The big, blond man came into town upon a Greyhound bus today.
He got a room at a cheap hotel, took a job at a cheap café.
He said, "I've always been a wandering man; Never really had me a home.
I've made my life a journey to the day when I no longer roam,
The day when I no longer roam."

He got friendly with a waitress there who'd spent her life behind a pile of food.
She begged him to run away with her; he replied, "I don't mean to be rude.
But we make the lives we live in; if you would be free, spread your wings and fly!
If you don't, then don't try to fool yourself, girl: You've got a reason why.
You have got a reason why."

As for every tree, there is a soldier, buried underneath the roots above,
And for every song there is a singer, trying to find the words to hide his love.
And for every wave, there is a sailor, who sank beneath the surface of the sea,
And for every star, there is an angel, crying down to Earth, "Why aren't you free?"

"I've always been a poor man, but I knew it was my choice to make.
I could've been a richer man; either road is there to take.
Being rich don't make you happy; but neither does being poor.
They're both just pathways to the soul, each nothing but a door.
Each is nothing but a door.

"You think that I could change your life, but it's not mine to change.
We live the things we want to live; the others, rearrange.
Only you can break the bindings of the apron strings you wear.
Don't forget, it's you that, every morning, reaches back and ties them there.
You reach back and you tie them there."

As for every tree, there is a soldier, buried underneath the roots above,
And for every song there is a singer, trying to find the words to hide his love.
And for every wave, there is a sailor, who sank beneath the surface of the sea,
And for every star, there is an angel, crying down to Earth, "Why aren't you free?"

The big, blond man left town upon a Greyhound bus today.
The girl he left behind couldn't bring herself to watch as he rode away.
She could have ridden with him; and that bus goes by each day.
And in her heart she follows, but you know she'll always stay.
You know she's always gonna stay.

As for every tree, there is a soldier, buried underneath the roots above,
And for every song there is a singer, trying to find the words to hide his love.
And for every wave, there is a sailor, who sank beneath the surface of the sea,
And for every star, there is an angel, crying down to Earth, "Why aren't you free?"