The Rest is History
©2006 Gibbens/Weston

Here’s the headlines
Hitting deadlines,
Here’s the breadlines standing in the snow.

Here is bondage,
Heart’s blood squandered.
Have you ever wondered where they go?

There is love
And there’s the mystery,
The rest is history…

August morning,
1914,
Diamonds on the barbed wire dropping slow.

Martyred midnight
On the far side.
To the east the dawn’s a rising glow.

There is love
And there’s the mystery,
The rest is history…

Your weekdays are a maze
Without wisdom or ways
Out through the mists of time.

When the bells overhead
Hang their chains round your bed
And get themselves ready to chime,

There is love
And there’s the mystery,
The rest is history…

August morning,
Without warning,
Suddenly the world grew very old.

From a toy plane
Little Boy came,
Fire from the desert in our soul.

There is love
And there’s the mystery,
The rest is history…

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