War, war, war
What is it all for
Does it bring happiness
Does it bring joy
It gives me much less
For I'm a soldier boy
Drafted into conflicts
With folk I've never known
Right across the planet
Some other time zone
None of us have interests
In the others needs
We're simply hanging on until
Some bullet makes us bleed
Patch us up in the MASH
Send us home to mum
I'd rather do without the dash
Over minefields all alone
So many buddies splattered
Across the field behind
Are those that sent us over here
Really of sound mind?
(c) Rhumour
June 1968
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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