Moby's Small Town Soap Box--THE SANDS OF CHRISTMAS

I was fixing my kids lunches this morning, as I listened to the radio. The channel listen to plays Moby in the Morning...and well..His small town soap box just really got to me this morning. I wanted to share it here too..
http://www.mobyinthemorning.com/soapbox.cfm

THE SANDS OF CHRISTMAS

I had no Christmas spirit when I breathed a weary sigh;
And looked across the table where the bills were piled too high.
The laundry wasn't finished and the car I had to fix;
My stocks were down another point, the Chargers lost by six.



And so with only minutes till my son got home from school;
I gave up on the drudgery and grabbed a wooden stool.
The burdens that I carried were about all I could take;
And so I flipped the TV on to catch a little break.



I came upon a desert scene in shades of tan and rust;
No snowflakes hung upon the wind, just clouds of swirling dust.
And where the reindeer should have stood before a laden sleigh;
Eight Humvees ran a column right behind an M1A.



A group of boys walked past the tank, not one was past his teens;
Their eyes were hard as polished flint, their faces drawn and lean.
They walked the street in armor with their rifles shouldered tight;
Their dearest wish for Christmas, just to have a silent night.



Other soldiers gathered, hunkered down against the wind;
To share a scrap of mail and dreams of going home again.
There wasn't much at all to put their lonely hearts at ease;
They had no Christmas turkey, just a pack of MRE's.



They didn't have a garland or a stocking I could see;
They didn't need an ornament--they had no Christmas tree.
They didn't have a present even though it was tradition;
The only boxes I could see were labeled "ammunition."



I felt a little tug and found my son now by my side;
He asked what it was I feared, why it was I cried.
I swept him up into my arms and held him oh so near;
And kissed him on his forehead as I whispered in his ear.



There's nothing wrong my little son, for safe we sleep tonight;
Our heros stand on foreign land to give us all that right.
To worry on the things in life that mean nothing at all;
Instead of wondering if we will be the next to fall.



He looked at me as children do and said it's always right;
To thank the ones who help us and perhaps that we should write.
And so we pushed aside the bills and sat to draft a note;
To thank the many far from home, and this is what we wrote.



GOD BLESS YOU ALL AND KEEP YOU SAFE, AND SPEED YOUR WAY BACK HOME; REMEMBER THAT WE LOVE YOU SO, AND THAT YOU'RE NOT ALONE.

THE GIFT YOU GIVE YOU SHARE WITH ALL, A PRESENT EVERY DAY;
YOU GIVE THE GIFT OF LIBERTY AND THAT WE CAN'T REPAY.