They’re burning buildings my great grandfather built.
They say the rubble pays for these three generations’ guilt.
The banner waves in tatters, as I try and find the wounds.
“You’ll never know less than all my love.”
My father worked the harbor nets with pride.
Fed thirteen kids ’til he was lost in the bloody tide.
And the marching boots’ staccato couldn’t drown his dying words:
“You’ll never know less than all my love.”
Chorus:
And don’t ever doubt the nature
Of the battle that is waged.
And don’t ever let your heart be occupied.
‘Cause the works of man can never stand
The weight of the passing ages.
When they fall away there is only you and I.
I stand amazed as these pictures fill my head.
You at the marketplace with your mother baking bread.
When I saw my children in your eyes, it brought my heart to you.
Said, “You’ll never know less than all my love.”
The truth will rise like the ghost of a murdered man
And all the frightened ones will know they followed an evil plan.
Now I hope you live a long life and you never live in fear
And you’ll never know less than all my love.
repeat chorus
“All My Love” appeared on a 1994 home demo.
© and ℗ 1994 Marques Bovre