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  A Firefighters Gloves hold many things
  From elderly arms to a kids broken swing
  From the hands they shake and the backs they pat
  To the tiny claw marks of another treed cat
  At 2 am they are filled with the chrome
  From the DWI who was on her way home
  And the equipment they use to roll back the dash
  From a family of 6 she involved in the crash

  The brush rakes in spring wear the palms out
  When the wind does a "90" to fill them with doubt
  The thumb of the glove wipes the sweat from the brow
  Of the face of a firefighter who mutters "What now"

  They hold inch and three quarters flowing one seventy five
  So the ones going in, come back out alive
  When the regulator goes; then there isn't too much,
  But the bypass valve they eagerly clutch

  The rescue equipment, the ropes, the C-collars;
  The lives that they save never measured in dollars
  Are the obvious things firefighters gloves hold
  Or, so that is what I've been always told

  But there are other things Firefighters Gloves touch
  Those are the things we all need so much

  They hold back the rage on that 3 am call
  They hold in the fear when your lost in a hall
  They hold back the pity, agony, sorrow
  They hold in the desire to "Do it tomorrow"

  A gloves just a glove till it's on firefighters
  Who work all day long just to pull an all-nighter
  And into the fray they charge without fear
  At the sound of a "Help" they think that they hear

  When firefighters hands go into the glove
  It's a firefighter who always fills it with love
  Sometimes the sorrow is too much to bear
  And it seeps the glove and burns deep "in there"

  Off comes the gloves when the call is done
  And into the pocket until the next run
  The hands become lonely and cold for a bit
  And shake just a little thinking of it

  And they sit there so red eyed with their gloves in  their coats
  The tears come so fast that the furniture floats
  They're not so brave now; their hands they can't hide
  I guess it just means that they're human inside

  And though some are paid and others are not
  The gloves feel the same when it's cold or it's hot
  To someone you're helping to just get along
  When you fill them with love, you always feel strong

  And so when I go on my final big ride
  I hope to have my gloves by my side
  To show to St. Peter at that heavenly gate
  Cause as everyone knows, firefighters don't wait.

  Thank God.


Last modified: December 05, 2003