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Thursday, September 17, 2009

Children One And All


Rod McKuen and Mary Travers


Children One And All
For Novella Nelson by Rod McKuen

Some of us live in big white houses,
some of us live in small.
Some of our names are written on blackboards,
some are written on walls.

Some of our daddies work in factories,
some of them stand in line.
Some of our daddies buy us marbles,
some of them just buy wine.

But at night you can’t tell Sunday suits
from tattered overalls.
Then we’re only children,
children one and all.

Some of us take our lunch in boxes,
some in paper sacks.
Some of us kids join in the laughter,
some hear it at our backs.

Some of our mothers sew fine linen,
some can’t sew a stitch.
Some of our mothers dress up poorly,
some of them dress up rich.

But at night you can’t tell party dresses
from hand-me-downs too small.
Then we’re only children
children one and all.

Some of us learn our lessons poorly,
some of us learn them well.
Some of us find an earthly heaven,
some of us live in hell.

Some of us go right on a-preachin’,
without making’ too much sense.
Some of us hide behind a wall,
some behind a fence.

But at night you can’t tell picket fences
from bricks that tower tall.
Then we’re only children,
children one and all.

Some of us grow up tall and handsome,
some of us grow up plain.
Some of us own the world in ransom,
some of us just our name.

Some of our people die in mis’ry,
some of them die in peace.
Some of our people die for nothing,
but dying doesn’t cease.

And at night you can’t tell fancy coffins
from boxes in the hall.
Then we’re only children,
children one and all.


Recorded On An Album, "Mary" by Mary Travers

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