Let Them In

Let them in, Peter
They are very tired
Give them couches where the angels sleep, and light those fires
Let them wake whole again
It's a brand new dawn
Fired by the sun, not wartime's bloody guns

Let their peace be deep
Remember where the broken bodies lie
God knows how young they were to have to die
God knows how young they were to have to die

So give them things they like
Let them make some noise
Give dance-hall bands, not golden harps
To these, our boys
And let them love, Peter
For they've had no time
They should have trees, and bird songs,
And hills to climb
The taste of summer in a ripened pear
And girls, sweet as meadow wind, with flowing hair

And tell them how they are missed
But not to fear
It's going to be alright
With us down here

Let them in, Peter
Let them in, Peter
Let them in, Peter