the roll call had been done
just a boy of seventeen
he was the only one
all his friends and comrades
a hundred men or more
cut down like a field of wheat
just casualties of war
the generals were alarmed
thought it cowardliness of the foe
so with a few hundred more
they'd have another go
and all the troops from behind
reserves and ill trained
walked into no mans land
for two inches gained
he only fought for his pals
not the generals behind
and at night his pals visited
in dreams inside his mind
he hated the unjust foe
those murderers of his youth
that fought for broken promises
unlike his war for truth
as the years passed by
he began to see
the enemy were just like him
not the devils villainy
in a grubby wine bar
for veterans of the war
he saw the hated enemy
as he never saw before
in the gloom they all shook hands
and drank the cheapest wine
they sank all the wartime songs
as drunks are inclined
talking to their enemies
of the friends that died
embracing like long lost friends
for all the waste they cried
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