STORIES    by Dean Stevens
(this is what happened to the people of  El Higueral, Chalatenango, El Salvador on Feb. 14, 1981)

I never watched as soldiers cut my family to the ground
I never fled to the hills not looking back at my village burning down
I never heard the rat-tat bullets seek me from the sky
I never saw my children hungry and so weak they could not cry

I once met some people, who told me of these things
Tales so dark to blacken the heart,
Tales to cry more than to sing
And I can see their faces, and I know their names
And the day I heard their stories I knew I'd never be the same

I never slept in hunger on a bed of rain and stone
I never felt the dark of dew that chilled me to the marrow bone
I always thought that cold of night would melt with warmth of day
Never knew that memories might be wounds that never will go away

chorus (But I know some people.....)

I never knew the misery many live through every day
I never asked for a clean slate, to wash this all away
I never shook my fist at God, why me this fate would deal?
But I hope and pray a brighter day, some future may reveal

For so many people taught me so many things,
Their dreams so bright will lighten the night, and tears of joy to these eyes bring
And I have seen their eyes that gleam, and I know their children's names
And the day I heard their stories I will never be the same.
And I swear that by these stories I will never be the same

1996 Dean Stevens Music BMI