Mr. Throwaway
A song from the perspective of those "throwaway characters" in stories -- the cannon fodder, the collateral damage, the expendable side-character. A humorous take on "insignificant" people and the heroism of being forgotten.
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I’m the trooper with the helmet
that never shows his eyes,
‘cause no one wants to get attached
before my quick demise.
I’m the one unlucky citizen
with the knife inside my back,
dead by Chapter One, so you
can have a case to crack.
And no one gives a second thought;
they got no tears to cry,
‘cause my name is Mr. Throwaway
and all I do is die.
I’m the nameless starship crewman;
I’m the messenger you shot.
I’m the first man going overboard,
the kid the monster got.
In another universe, perhaps,
I’d have a wife and son,
a dog, a couple daughters,
safe and living, every one;
But let dreams for now be silenced
and let teardrops fill my eye,
‘cause, yeah, I’m Mr. Throwaway
but I still don’t want to die.
O, eyes on the horizon!
though there’s no horizon there,
and pray I meet ungloried Death
with a face still clear and fair—
Not the courage of the hero,
not the courage of the friend,
just the courage of a simple man
whose beginning is his end.
So I walk into the darkness
with no one asking why,
‘cause my name is Mr. Throwaway
and I’m only made to die.
Maybe, there’s a place for us
who died on field and street,
and high on silver mountaintops
the faceless soldiers meet—
We’ll toast to those who needed us
to make their stories grand,
and wine will flow forever
in another, better, land.
So stand and face the chasm,
with your nameless head held high.
Fall bravely, Mr. Throwaway,
for not in vain you die.
© Nicole Krueger 2021
EN-US
EN-EU
