Newspaper Pane - Elvis Costello

She looked at the pictures on a newspaper pane

That was taped to the window to keep out the wind

To keep out the rain

To keep out the nonsense

And block out the needing

To keep up her spirits

With improving reading

But the ink from the columns

Dissolved down into the stain

On the bare wood floor

That extended to the door

Pictures of bright futures somehow ignored

I’d 've offered her finery she could never afford

Tempting out savings she didn’t have, or could never risk

Not a fashionable kindness, it was grotesque

The beaus with their fiddles played The Rascal’s Release

We toasted to valor and wished there were peace

Six months later, in a newspaper margin

They were all cut down in a cavalry charge

Weeping Miss Imogen said to her priest

«I gave him my virtue, it was the least I could leave him

On the eve of departure

Though I will long for him now and hereafter»

«And the child I’ll be raising may have his blue eyes

What if he grows up and dies

On some distant unnameable hillside or field

'Cause a king and a concubine put a mark on his shield?»

Thomas tomorrow, Thomas no more

Father and sunshine, beyond and before

William, who brought his drum home from the war

To beat it for young lads whose days didn’t even add up to a score

I don’t spend my time perfecting the past

I live for the future 'cause I know it won’t last

A bent note on a horn I can’t play

The ghosts in the window that I can’t wish away

Freedom to be reckless, freedom to plunder

Freedom to dream, freedom to wonder

When you get where I am now, you may feel differently

The cliff drops away sharply, falls into the sea

No work today, no hope tomorrow

No bread for breaking, no wine for sorrow

Nobody for selling, no truth for telling

No work tomorrow, no work today

Look at that child bride and her ideal bouquet

Boys, pick up a rifle, that’s too much to pay

Count out her teardrops, wipe them away