Why Old Men Cry

I walked from Ypres to Passchendale

In the first gray days of spring

Through flatland fields where life goes on

And carefree children sing

Round rows of ancient tombstones

Where a generation lies

And at last I understood

Why old men cry

My mother's father walked these fields

Some eighty years ago

He was half the age that I am now

No way that he could know

That his unborn grandchild someday

Would cross his path this way

And stand here

Where his fallen comrades lay

He'd been dead a quarter century

By the time that I was born

The mustard gas which swept the trenches

Ripped apart his lungs

Another name and number

Among millions there who died

And at last I understood

Why old men cry

I walked from Leith to Newtongrange

At the turning of the year

Through desolate communities

And faces gaunt with fear

Past bleak, abandoned pitheads

Where rich seams of coal still lie

And at last I understood

Why old men cry

My father helped to win the coal

That lay neath Lothian's soil

A life of bitter hardship

The reward for years of toil

But he tried to teach his children

There was more to life than this

Working all your life

To make some fat cat rich

I walked from Garve to Ullapool

As the dawn light kissed the earth

And breathed the awesome beauty

Of this land that gave me birth

I looked into the future

Saw a people proud and free

As I looked along Loch Broom

Out to the sea