John's in Berlin

John’s in Berlin

And he doesn’t call

And he doesn’t send letters

And I can’t get in touch with him
So what do I do?

The neighbors are looking at me

In the supermarkets

While I put cans of soup

In my cart

There’s that woman

There’s that mother

That’s the one with the son

Who ran off

To Berlin

To fight with the enemy

To shoot down his brothers

To stick a sword

In the heart

Of America

But they don’t know that

They don’t know why he’s in Berlin

I don’t know why he’s in Berlin

A letter saying he’d run off

And a visit from some men
From the government

Telling me he could—

— He could—

—Be in Berlin

That doesn’t prove anything

It doesn’t mean anything

But I can’t find him

I can’t find my son

And they tell me

He’s in Berlin

But I can’t go to Berlin

I’m not a spy

I’m not some diplomat

Or ambassador

I’m the wife of a farmer

From Point Eye, Nebraska

Who shops at the supermarket every Friday

And goes to church

And says her prayers

And taught her sons

All four of her sons

That people are good

That people are mostly good people
And nobody is any better

Than anybody else

So how any child of mine

Could look at that mess

Going on over there

And not just decide to get involve

But to get involved

With the other side

Is—

I just can’t wrap my head around that

I just can’t believe it

I really can’t

John wouldn’t even play with guns

When he was little

Not even toy ones

He would cry anytime

One of his brothers got hurt

And they would make fun of him for it

But I told him, That’s fine, John

That’s just fine

All it means is

You got a good heart

And he did

He did have a good heart

One of the best

Used to say he had my father’s heart

And my father was the kindest man

You could ever hope to meet

And now my father’s gone

And John’s gone

And my husband won’t say a word about

Says we have three sons now

Which is an easy thing for a man to say

Because he wasn’t the one
Having the sons, was he?

He wasn’t the one

Who patched him up when he got hurt

Or tended to him

When he got sick

Or read him stories

Every night

My husband isn’t a bad man

But he is an American

And a proud one

And that comes with certain problems

That comes with a certain kind of blindness

That I just don’t understand

I’m an American too

But I’m a mother first

I’ll always be a mother first

And if John blew up the country tomorrow

With me and the rest of us with it
I’d still love him

Not because that’s what I know how to do
But because I don’t know

How not to do it

They sat at my kitchen table

And told me

My son was in Berlin

And that he was a threat

That he was dangerous

My little boy

Who couldn’t get out of bed

The day his first goldfish died

He was so sad

And now he’s dangerous

Well…

Children grow up

I know that

And people change

But nobody knows

Why John’s in Berlin

I don’t

You don’t

The people at the supermarket

They don’t

Not even the men

Who sat here at this kitchen table

Could tell me for sure, so…

So for now

I just say ‘He’s in Berlin’
And I don’t try to know

Anymore about it

Than that

Except to ask

When he’s coming home

That’s it

That’s all I

Wanna know