The sword sliced deep to the core
Bewilderment preceded the thought of dying
The young soldier was stuck like a pig
Onto the field of dead he’d soon be lying
But merely just some days before
He laid upon a large feather bed
A wife he held within his arms
With his daughter’s kiss upon his head
He was a man who loved all life
And life adored him as much or more
He was gifted with the voice of an angel
His audiences always begged for more
When conscripted he went with pride
Though he hated war and the need to fight
He looked so handsome in his uniform
His songs brought a sense of home to the night
He did his part like others do
Their stories being much the same
For mankind to kill such beauty
Only the generals and politicians are to blame
No matter on which side they fight
Most only do what they are told
Sometimes I wonder what we’ve lost
When a soldier dies before he’s old
