In Memoriam: Pat Tillman

With the recent news coverage regarding the actual circumstances of Pat Tillman's death - as opposed to the fictionalized public relations package that was developed from it in 2004 - I have found myself haunted by a song that I first heard in 1967, forty years ago, in another time, in another war.

Forty years later, I reverently place its lyrics here, in his memory, and in honor of his family's grief and loss.

Requiem for the Masses
(Terry Kirkman - The Association, 1967)

Requiem aeternam, requiem aeternam...
Mama, mama, forget your pies
Have faith they won't get cold
And turn your eyes to the bloodshot sky
Your flag is flying bold
At half mast,
for the matadors
Who turned their backs
to please the crowd
And all fell before the bull.

Red was the color of his blood flowing thin
Pallid white was the color of his lifeless skin
Blue was the color of the morning sky
He saw looking up
from the ground where he died
It was the last thing
ever seen
by him
Kyrie Eleison,
Kyrie Eleison...

Mama, mama, forget your pies
Have faith they won't get cold
And turn your eyes to the bloodshot sky
Your flag is flying bold
At half mast,
for the matadors
Who turned their backs
to please the crowd
And all
fell
before the bull...

Black and white were the figures
that recorded him
Black and white was the newsprint
he was mentioned in
Black and white was the question
that so bothered him
He never asked
he was taught not to ask
What was on his lips
as they buried him...

Rex tremendae majestatis...
Requiem aeternam,
Kyrie Eleison...

~~~~~~~

Requiem aeternam dona ei, Domine, et lux perpetua luceat ei. Requiescat in pace. Amen.

[Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord, and perpetual light shine upon him. May he rest in peace. Amen.]