Letter From the Draft Board

Aaron Kramer
Lingua: Inglese

A letter has come to me, darling
I wish it were sent by you
Telling me sweetly where you will meet me
and what you would like to do.
But there is no love in the greeting
It's signed in a cold, clever hand.
Not a young woman's but rather a summons
to ravish some innocent land

A letter has come to me, buddy,
I wish it were signed in your name
Letting me know that we'll soon say hello
At our favorite annual game
But there is no hope in the greeting
It's death with his welcoming grin
More like a canon-ball game he is playing
Than Baseball and no one will win.

A lector has cone to me, mother,
I wish that tho words were your own
Giving me news of the fun we will lose
If I let you go traveling alone
But there is no heart in the greeting
The words have a devilish tone
I'm off on a journey that only can earn me
A medal, a curse, and a stone.

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