A FOREIGN WAR


It's time for Sunday dinner when the bombs begin to fall
Talk of morning's sermon ends, interrupted by a call
And the family turns the TV on, and in silence watch the screen
Tiny bursts of brightness on night-vision black and green
Father wanders to the kitchen, runs water in the sink
Daughter drops a glass and Father doesn't think
He's halfway beneath the table, he's halfway back in time
Then he laughs and tells his Daughter, everything is fine.

Daughter changes into jeans to go outside to play
Mother reads the paper for there's nothing she can say
And Daughter stops and turns around, halfway to the door
Daddy, did you kill someone when you were in the war?
But Daddy doesn't answer, and his face turns into stone
The silence, loud as thunder, chills her to the bone
So she turns again and goes outside before she starts to cry
Father waits for time to move again, for this moment to go by

Mother lies in bed and wonders how she can ease his pain
In the dark before the TV, he sees it all again
And thinks it's all so far away, it's not really like it seems
You can't see the people dying, and you can't hear their screams
And it doesn't show how those who live will forever know that fear
Those pictures don't mean Jack to us who sit and watch them here
And his eyes lose their focus and he stares off in the night
And his face shines in the flashing TV light