Let them in Peter . For they are very tired . Give them couches where the angels sleep . And light those fires . Let them wake whole again . To brand new dawns . Fired by the sun . Not war-times bloody guns . May their peace be deep . Remember where the broken bodies lie . God knows how young they were . To have to die . Give them things they like . Let them make some noise . Give dance hall bands not golden harps . To these our boys . Let them love Peter . For they've had no time . They should have bird songs and trees . And hills to climb . The taste of summer . And a ripened pear . And girls sweet as meadow wind . And flowing hair . And tell them how they are missed . But say not to fear . It's gonna be all right . With us down here