Protocol - Gordon Lightfoot

Who are these ones who would lead us now

To the sound of a thousand guns

Storm the gates of hell itself

To the tune of a single drum

Where are the girls of the neighborhood bars

Whose loves were lost at sea

In the hills of France and on German soil

From Saigon to Wounded Knee

Who come from long lines of soldiers

Whose duty was fulfilled

In the words of a warrior’s will

And protocol

Where are the boys in their coats of blue

Who flew when their eyes were blind

Was God in town for the Roman games

Was he there when the deals were signed

Who are the kings in their coats of mail

Who rode by the cross to die

Did they all go down into worthiness

Is it wrong for a king to cry

And who are these ones who would have us now

Whose presence is concealed

Whose nature is revealed

In a time bomb

And last of all you old seadogs

Who travel after whale

You’d storm the gates of hell itself

For the taste of a mermaid’s tail

Who come from long lines of skippers

Whose duty was fulfilled

In the words of a warrior’s will

And protocol