Our Glorious Dead (They said)
To Our Glorious Dead, the monument said
Whatís so glorious about being dead?
A bayonet up the arse or a bullet in the head
Would you change places then?
If so, when?
Political prick you make me sick
Forward you men have no fear
Whilst I stay safely over here
Far, far away from the pointless war
I lied and deceived for.
Oh great, canít wait!
Donít count the wounded or dead,
Our cause is just
Forward, soldiers, in God we trust
Itís the way to win, just forge ahead
And the injuries? The amputees?
What of these?
ĎOh dear, well, itís like this you see
We canít afford so very much
And so weíll kick you in the crotch
With weasel words, broken promises and such
But the nation is very grateful
And, yes, we agree, war is hateful