His Name on the Stone

Clearing out Nan's house on a grey autumn day,

Found an old biscuit tin tucked away,

Letters tied up with a ribbon of blue,

Signed "Your Tommy — I'm coming home to you."

She never once spoke that name out loud,

Just loved my Grandad and kept her head proud,

So I walked to the church at the end of the lane,

And there in the granite,

I found him again.

His name on the stone by the old church gate,

Nineteen years old, and she swore she'd wait,

The world hurries by,

but I stand here alone,

Reading her heart in his name on the stone.

The last one was written the week that he fell,

"Save me a dance,

love,

and keep yourself well,"

She kept every page for a lifetime or more,

Through the wedding, the children,

the peace after war,

And Grandad, God bless him,

I think that he knew

— There's room in a heart for a love that stays true,

He never once asked her to throw them away,

Just held her a little bit tighter

each May.

His name on the stone by the old church gate,

Nineteen years old, and she swore she'd wait,

The world hurries by,

but I stand here alone,

Reading her heart in his name on the stone.

One November

she squeezed my hand tight,

When the bugle played out in the cold morning light,

She said, "Some you love,

and some you lose young,

But the first song you learn never leaves your tongue."

I never knew who she was crying for

— A boy with her heart,

who went off to war.

His name on the stone by the old church gate,

Nineteen years old, and she swore she'd wait,

Now I lay two poppies,

and I'm not alone

— One for my Nan,

one for the name on the stone.

One for my Nan...

One for the name on the stone.