by Wilson Roberts
Another Broken Doll

It must have been ten thousand beers ago you went to war;

Ten thousand dreams you’ve sweated through

The things you did and saw;

You saw that woman cross the field

Then did as you were told

And watched her crumple like a broken doll.



CHORUS

 	You’ve prayed and asked forgiveness but the cup holds bitter wine;     

	There’s darkness in the chapel and you know that God is blind;     

        There’s no atonement you can live with;     

	There’s no peace in dreams or dying     

	And each morning is just another death.     





You came home to silence and the lights of barroom doors,

The emptiness of mirrors, the narcissistic arms of whores;

No one wants to think about

The things you did and saw;

They sent you off, then brought you back,

Tossed you out just like a broken doll.



CHORUS





You say you’re seeking Jesus, but the whiskey’s all you find;

You take up serpents, speak strange tongues but you’re runnin’ out of time;

The Devil’s always with you,

He’s coughing in the night

His arms are wrapped around you like a lover’s warm and tight;

You’re just a baby crying for his broken doll.



CHORUS





You drink your beers and look around at the lives of other men,

Stand outside their windows wishing you were young again,

To offer your resistance 

to a world where love’s in flight

Instead of weeping in the rain alone out in the night

Where you’re nothing but another broken doll.



CHORUS





Now like some ancient wanderer of hollow hilly lands,

You tell your tales to all who’ll put a bottle in your hands,

Of war and love, of loss in both,

All your lies and truth,

As they watch you

crumple like a broken doll



CHORUS

"...Once in khaki suits,

Ah, gee we looked swell

Full of that yankee doodle dee dum!

Half a million boots went sloggin' through hell

And I was the kid with the drum!

Oh, say don't you remember?

They called me Al.

It was Al all the time.

Say, don't you remember?

I'm your pal.

Buddy, can you spare a dime?"

-- Brother, Can You Spare A Dime? byy Harburg Gorney