As many of you may know, and as all of you should know, I love Eric Peters. To be quite honest, he's surpassed Derek Webb as far as my favorite singer/songwriter/musician-type goes. Yes, I think he's that good. I can't even describe why he's so amazing, why he encapsulates all that it means to be a musician and a writer; he has to be experienced first hand. This, for example, is one of the many reasons why I love him so much:

More spirit than flesh, more questions than answers, these songs and their rough-hewn forefathers, are, nonetheless, my children. There are haggard moments when I�m unsure if I�m man or beast, loved or hated, awake or dreaming, alive or hopeless, noble or urchin; and it is in those moments that the songs get the best of me. They are sweat of the brow. They are a collective of the history that is mine: from the still-shots of a young and learning (yea, teachable at times), green (naive even) young boy hoping to communicate a vast something to those of an older lad still trying to make sense of the mystery that he is aware of; a mystery that seems to grow more mysterious with every passing day. The songs and the scraps are family. I am the proud, fallen papa who must pray for mine own humility and who must, inevitably, watch them grow up and move on.


That being said, These Three Remain is by far my favorite Eric Peters song and quite possibly my favorite song ever. Maybe it's the history nerd coming out in me, maybe it's the gorgeous guitar part, maybe it's the ability this song has to make me cry. In any event, this song is flat out amazing. The end.

Faith: it is a soldier in the 82nd Corp
the first wave into Europe,
then barely made it home
with hands like my father's
now shaking like a leaf
clinging to my rifle with no sign of peace
Hope: these are the trenches
of this God-forsaken War
I caught an hour or two of sleep
the night before
with eyes like my mother's
once bright, blue and wide
I've seen boys shot to pieces
and held their hand as they died

I remember me,
do you remember you?
I'd just as soon forget
all those things I had to do
over there I was scared
in my pain, I'll take all the blame
now these three remain

Love: it is the trembling
and the scattering of dust
it's looking out into a field
I know that I must cross
here I am at twenty,
prepared to lose my life
I do it for my country,
I would have done it for my wife

I remember me,
do you remember you?
I'd just as soon forget
all those horrible things I had to do
over there I was scared
in my pain, I'll take all the blame
now these three remain
now these three remain

- thoughts provided by Katey Orr @ 5:30 PM