The soldier stood and faced his God, which must always come to pass...
He hoped his shoes were shining just as much as his brass,
'Step forward now, you soldier, How shall I deal with you?
Have you turned the other cheek? To My Church have you been true?'

The soldier squared his shoulders and said, 'No, Lord, I guess I ain't,..
Because those of us that carry guns, can't always be a Saint.
I've had to work most Sundays, and at times my talk was tough,
And sometimes I've been violent, cause the streets are awfully rough

But I've never taken a penny, that wasn't mine to keep...
Though I've worked a lot of overtime, when the bills just got too steep,
And I never passed a cry for help, though at times I shook with fear,
And sometimes, God forgive me, I've wept unmanly tears

I know I don't deserve a place among the people here...
They never wanted me around, except to calm their fears.
If you have a place for me here, Lord, it needn't be too grand,
I never expected or had too much, but if you don't, I'll understand.

There was silence all around the Throne, where the Saints had often trod,
As the soldier waited quietly, for the judgement of his God.
Step forward now you soldier,
walk peacefully on Heaven's streets,
You've done your time in Hell.'

Author unknown.