Major Howard's Address at Macon

from by Sherman to the Fucking Sea

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Get love where you can.

With the wheat fields tinged
cadmium by a Gatling mist,
you'd better get some love.
Get love where you can.

As I walk through the camp
we've set down west of Macon,
these men and boys write and sing
love songs from murderous hearts.

Whether it's the hand of a whore
or a perfumed letter from a young wife,
you've got to get some love.
Get love where you can.

All those red skies at our backs
mean we're marching into
the very heart of hate itself.
Not one warm face for three more states.

And they'll have every right
to want to make orphans of our kids
after we've mangled their horizons
into a mass of twisted tracks.

Our goal is to starve their wives.
Our goal is to bleed them out.
They'll call us murderous cowards.
They'll throw rocks from their porches.

But we cannot and will not stop
until we've snuffed out their ideas.
So if you're lacking for passion
when I tell you burn a home,

think of the mothers of the North
who've cooked their last for their man.
Think of the arrogance and greed,
the plantation owner's whip.

The last nation on Earth
to abide the trade of men.
They might hate us forever
but that shall be our lot.

But I've got to be honest boys.
I don't care anymore
if we win back Tennessee
or sign a full surrender.

There's only one way home.
One way back to loving arms.
And that's one fire,
one fire at a time.

Margaret, I'll be home soon.
Minus an arm and covered in gloom,
but Margaret, I'll be home soon.
Listen for the sound of our boots.


from The Lost Army, track released January 13, 2011



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