The War & I

 

I spend my life

living in the cracks,

My name is private

my grave says jack,

I'll go to war

when under attack,

I'll surely die

like the lads in the black.

 

All I can see

is the the Galilean blood,

The men fall down 

in frequent thuds,

His heart blown up

like a rose in the mud,

As he lays down

next to a poppy bud.

 

I'm not a man

just a mother's son,

He too is a child

on the gatling gun,

The violin plays 

to the hazy sun,

As we're caught in the 

web they spun.

 

You can write

all day and night,

To say your farwells

and your goodbyes,

These notes that you write

will never arrive,

There's no good for us

there is no reply.

 

So please can you, John

just bye the bye,

We close on death

and we don't know why,

I don't care

I'm not for pride,

I hate the way

With the war & I