La Guerre


They’re all dead now
Those soldiers brave.
Sepia smiles for the cameras
But their souls still tell tales.
Thin wretched bodies
Strong death machines,
War is not pretty
But dire and mean.

50,000 men for four yards of mud
6,000,000 Jews for a fanatic mistrust
How many missiles for 6 billion men
Safe from destruction, but only ‘till when?

March through the dead lands
Trench in the mud.
Joking you make good
Over the sound of doodle bugs.
Rally ‘round the flag then
Fight because it’s right.
Go to your death lad
Show the enemy our might.

Too many Russians died in the snow
And the Germans kept coming, row after row.
And now we have terror and no, it’s not fun
Thousands of innocents die on the run.

War – such a small word
For something so great.
3 letters mean destruction,
All give but no take.
3 letters mean terror
Make the innocent flee
And what will it be next,
And where shall we be?

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