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The soldier stood and
faced his God
Which must always come to pass
He hoped his shoes were shining
Just as brightly as his brass.
"Step
forward now, you soldier,
How shall I deal with you?
Have you always turned the other cheek?
To My Church have you
been true?"
The soldier squared his shoulders and
said,"No, Lord, I guess I ain't
Because those of us who carry
guns
Can't always be a saint.
I've had to work most Sundays
And at times my talk was tough,
And sometimes
I've been violent,
Because the streets are awfully tough
But, I never took a penny
That wasn't mine to keep...
Though
I worked a lot of overtime
When the bills got just too steep,
And I never passed a cry for help,
Though at times
I shook with fear,
And sometimes, God forgive me,
I've wept unmanly tears.
I know I don't deserve a place
Among
the people here
They never wanted me around
Except to calm their fears.
If you've a place for me here, Lord,
It
needn't be so grand,
I never expected or had too much,
But if you don't, I'll understand."
There was a silence
all around the throne
Where the saints had often trod
As the soldier waited quietly,
For the judgment of his God,
"Step
forward now you soldier
You've borne your burdens well,
Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets,
You've done your time
in Hell."
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