MORTAR AND STONE

                        On a cold mountain top    in a far away land

                                   My first foreign home since birth

                        Out of Herzo Base  in nineteen fifty-nine

                        I was assigned to the hill Schneeberg

                        Souls bonded there       side by side

                        In a mission we all knew well

                        We sat our positions    side by side

                        On top of that old cold hill  

                        Shadow and Teddy   on guard at the gate

                        In the ops building we'd just smile

                        Our DF was an old steering wheel

                        And the tuners had a telephone dial

              It was   only   mortar and stone

              But that pile of rubble used to be our home

              To us     it had a soul of it's own

              Now it's gone      but our memories live on            

                         Above the clouds   on an island of trees

                         The morning sun starts it's rise

                         To burn off the fog and the overnight freeze 

                         That happened during Mids last night

                         Those hours in the dark-watch'n twitch'n green lights 

                         Listening in the cans for a sign

                         Trying to stay awake    on long quiet nights

                         Those were the best of times

                         I was working on that hill   when they built the wall

                         Separating East from West

                         And that fateful day when Jack Kennedy died

                         We all felt the same inside

             It was  only   mortar and stone

             But that pile of rubble used to be our home

             To us   it had a soul of it's own

             And it's gone     but the memories live on

                        Cafe Stoll       in Wunsiedel

                        And the Post in Bischofsgruen

                        And the Red Ox     in Oberroeslau

                        Places I'll never forget

                        In Bischofsgruen at the Post we learned

                        Gemutlichkeit and good cheer

                        And the best of friends were always earned

                        While hoisting mugs of bier

                        I met my wife  -  changed my life

                        While working on that old cold hill

                        I'll never forget  -  in all my life

                        Those memories that linger still

             It was   only mortar and stone

             But that pile of rubble used to be our home

             And to us   it had a soul of it's own

             Now it's gone     but our memories live on

                        Did they realize      our history died

                        When they took it all down that day

                        Those who worked there side by side

                        Will never forget that day

                        It's a day of mourning - for Schneeberg vets

                        Who remember yesterday

                        A day in September  we'll never forget            

                        Our past now swept away

                        Our memories       and our photographs

                        And the stories we could tell

                        We end them now with an epitaph

                        For that home we loved so well

             It was  only  mortar and stone

             But that pile of rubble    used to be our home

             To us    it had a soul of it's own

             Now it's gone     but the memories live on     

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                       Lyrics & Music - Rick Wheeler

                       Guitar and Vocals – Rick Wheeler

                       Lead Guitar & Bass – Anthony Gerogosian

                       Drums – Anthony Gerogosian

                       Video Production – Phil Ward

                       Copyright @ 2005 – All Rights Reserved