No artwork
Get Flash to see this player.
Description
as someone who has been there in the midst of the blood and the mud and the heat the smoke, this expresses my opinion of the value of war.
Leave a Comment
You must be registered and logged-in to comment.
Lyrics
The Wrong Time To Be Eighteen.
The drummer drums.
The piper pipes.
The recruiter sings his song,
of sun swept shores and battle lights
and cordites sweet smell embedded.
"We need you now!"
The poster screams
in litho’d reds and whites.
Blue
the muzzles of the guns that speak
in heat
and
slay the hearts
of ten thousand mothers sons.
Old men quibble,
Young men die.
Not much gets decided.
Fortunes grow.
Things get better.
Someone gets defeated.
And the losers weep
and shed their tears ,
to green their
dead sons graves.
Feter
indeed a message ...I heard this on my ears in the past ...and its like coming
back to me ...thnx alot for sharin !!!!