[Verse 1]
She looked at the pictures on a newspaper pane
That was taped to the window
To keep out the wind, to keep out the rain
To keep out the nonsense and block out the needing
To keep up her spirits with improving reading
But the ink from the columns dissolved down into the stain
On the bare wood floor that extended to the door
Pictures of bright futures somehow ignored
That offered her finery she could never afford
Tempting out savings she didn’t have or could never risk
Not a fashionable kindness, it was grotesque
[Verse 2]
The beaus with their fiddles played "The Rascal’s Release"
We toasted to valor and wished there were peace
Six months later in a newspaper margin
They were all cut down in a cavalry charge
The weeping Miss Imogen said to her priest
"I gave him my virtue, it was the least
I could leave him on the eve of departure
Though I will long for him now and hereafter"
[Verse 3]
"And the child I'll be raising may have his blue eyes
What if he grows up and dies
On some distant unnamable hillside or field
'Cause a king and a concubine put a mark on his shield"
Thomas tomorrow, Thomas no more
Father and sunshine, beyond and before
William who brought his drum home from the war
To beat it for young lads whose days didn’t even add up to a score
She looked at the pictures on a newspaper pane
That was taped to the window
To keep out the wind, to keep out the rain
To keep out the nonsense and block out the needing
To keep up her spirits with improving reading
But the ink from the columns dissolved down into the stain
On the bare wood floor that extended to the door
Pictures of bright futures somehow ignored
That offered her finery she could never afford
Tempting out savings she didn’t have or could never risk
Not a fashionable kindness, it was grotesque
[Verse 2]
The beaus with their fiddles played "The Rascal’s Release"
We toasted to valor and wished there were peace
Six months later in a newspaper margin
They were all cut down in a cavalry charge
The weeping Miss Imogen said to her priest
"I gave him my virtue, it was the least
I could leave him on the eve of departure
Though I will long for him now and hereafter"
[Verse 3]
"And the child I'll be raising may have his blue eyes
What if he grows up and dies
On some distant unnamable hillside or field
'Cause a king and a concubine put a mark on his shield"
Thomas tomorrow, Thomas no more
Father and sunshine, beyond and before
William who brought his drum home from the war
To beat it for young lads whose days didn’t even add up to a score
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