Face on a Wall

i heard the call
the summon to the hall in the commandery
it’s a good job that i did
i heard it all
the reckless few, the fearing of the many
though they kept their true thoughts hid

but if they’d said what’s in their head
i doubt that history would change
but maybe some things would

armour-clad
a camisado, fifteen hundred royal men to hit the rebel camp
i was glad
i think i had always suspected i would upon history leave my stamp

i’d heard my fill
up to redhill i ran and did the only thing
i’d do it all again
the king’s men struck, but with no luck
the rebels knew to be prepared and drove them whence they came

face on a wall
i didn’t mean to wreck it all
the dreams we had of children playing and never saying no

i kind of knew
that short of you no one would understand me
not the people roundabout
and that was true
as i came to our home again they grabbed me
and they crowned me with a shroud

still on my feet
down to broad street they bundled me and strung me up, a symbol on a pole
for those who might
one autumn night
defy the herd and speak what they believe, not what they’re told
and so my name was cast in shame
how can they call it treachery if to yourself you’re true

face on a wall
i didn’t mean to wreck it all
the dreams we had of children playing and never saying no
face on a wall
i guess i heard the rebel call
and if our children hear it too please never tell them no
just let them go