Martin Holm Sjölin (89-01-29 / Stockholm)
A Hero Farewell
In a faraway field I lay
A lone soldier with an unknown grave.
Nothing to be said, and nothing to be done
The heart the once had a beat,
Now remains still
The cross is raised and the sounds of guns now long gone.
The trumpets high tone sings a last tone and then fades away,
The tone of one last farewell to the lone soldier in his grave.
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