May Beauty weed the River Bed

Brothers who Stand together,      
their blood runs one with the rivers      
      
Brothers who are Born to their Families      
and to their countries      
raised strong, through the tiling of their sills      
to feed on fresh, healthy bread.      
      
Brothers who live together,      
grow to young men,      
grow to sense of Duty      
grow to War.      
      
Brothers, swear to the Land      
and die to protect it further      
their blood returned to the stream      
the rivers flow still.      
Their anguish siphoned      
to feed the healthy grain again..      
      
Brothers abandon their Sons,      
as their Sons abandon theirs      
      
And the River will flow      
And the Bread will grow strong again.    
Through the river red rain,      
even the beautiful flowers grow.    
      
They'll feed off the same Bread    
They'll draw from the River bed  
They'll grow prettier still    
and they'll die all the same.