Mud and mire, flesh and bone
Like grass, those young men were cruelly mown,
For King and country for a merciful god,
Those young men were slaughtered and now lay in the sod.
There was no glory no greater cause,
Just blind obedience and just because,
The generals, lords and grand old men thought the blood of youth could serve them then.
But fields once green are red and torn,
And mothers weep for sons once born.
Their medals rust, their banners fade,
No real peace was won by the sacrifices made.
For all the drums and proud parades,
The cost was lives, a great price was paid,
And when the guns at last fell still,
No victor stood upon the hill,
Only silence, cold and resentment sore,
To mark the futility of yet another war.
Will we learn any lessons from those futile deaths?
And allow our children to take peaceful breaths,
I doubt it with sorrow and with some shame,
The generals, lords and grand old men will try and do it just the same.
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