The Little Family

A story in the papers,
just a paragraph or two
but it kept on running through my mind,
so I pass it on to you.

A family going to market,
in a little cart they ride,
the father and the mother,
two little children by their side.

And they're off to sell the food they've grown,
and when the day is done
maybe spend a little money,
maybe have a little fun.

And they're talking and they're singing,
planning what they'll do tonight,
and the mother's telling a story,
to keep the little children quiet.

And they're going along so steady -
when there's shooting all round,
and it lays that little family
all dead upon the ground.

And the shooting's quickly over,
just as soon as it's begun.
And the soldiers rise from the bushes
"Oh God, what have we done."

A story in the papers,
just a paragraph or two
but it kept on running through my mind,
is there's nothing I can do?

I wrote this a few years after seeing the paragraph about an incident in Vietnam. It could have been in so many other wars, before and since. The number of civilians killed on both sides was far greater than the number of soldiers. Like in most modern wars. A wall with all their name on would have to stretch round the world.

The tune I settled on is, more or less, "Pretty Boy Floyd".