Wounded soldiers wonder when wars will end,
And yet the dead never give peace a thought.
Their blood blooms in fields where blasted hearts blend
While noble hopes turn false where truths once fought.
And yet the dead never give peace a thought.
Their blood blooms in fields where blasted hearts blend
While noble hopes turn false where truths once fought.
Now more children of God make their crusade
To claim and win forever a grand cause;
But why must slogan makers be obeyed -
Their mouths sucking sacred texts like hell's whores?
To claim and win forever a grand cause;
But why must slogan makers be obeyed -
Their mouths sucking sacred texts like hell's whores?
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