PAPA NOVEMBER

Papa November, where are you tonight?
Papa November, will you show me the light?
Papa November, what do I do today?
Papa November, what do you want me to say?

Papa November, where is your voice?
Calm, reassuring, your frequencies roam;
The airwaves reverberate with one solemn question,
Papa November, when can I come home?

Papa November, call out my numbers,
Tell me your wish, send me on my way,
Papa November, voice of the night,
Secret master of what takes place during the day.

I serve my country in clandestine ways,
I walk among them, report back through the air,
You give me more orders, no news from back home,
I'm still stranded here, while you're over there.

Monotonous groups of five digit numbers,
My only link to the land that I love,
My work is my life, I'm always on duty,
But when I think of home, it's just not enough.

Every night, at oh one hundred hours,
Papa November takes to the skies:
Gather more data, find this official,
Learn his agenda, establish more ties,

Papa November, where are you tonight?
Papa November, what is your call?
Papa November, you'll give me more tasks,
But I hope every night that that won't be all.

Papa November, I've been here for years,
Papa November, I've felt so alone.
Papa November, call out my numbers,
Papa November, tell me I can come home.

Written by Eric Egolf