In fields of mud and bloody folly men huddle within their noble duty

Those who follow told to act, by those who lead from the back

Tis always so in war’s dirty nature that lower beasts die for those of higher stature

And lines of horror and terror and sorrow are forgotten now on the morrow

But still war’s thirst cannot be slaked for once again are men’s hearts raked

Across the burning coals of national rage and once again the world’s a stage

For ambition’s grasp and hateful reach – millions dead have nothing to teach

And now I go to do my duty and hope to kill another thing of beauty

For in my heart and head I hold thoughts and hopes of times of gold

But over time by spilling blood those things I think and hold and love

Are spoiled and left within to die like those boys and men I killed who lie

Like shameful toys now discarded broken and ugly now war has started

Now once again I am called and the world has changed but not at all

Though time has passed and man has learned he has not grown nor has he turned

From wasteful ways of horrid death where bitter torment cries with final breath

Nor has he found any better way to resolve his differences than me to pay

I am that which is not admitted – his hideous mirror of acts committed

So men of words can shake their head and look not upon their growing dead

A noble soldier returning home clothes neatly pressed and polished chrome

Disguising thoughts of a darker nature in whose troubled mind unrest doth nurture