My Granddad told me, I was young,
When the war had just begun,
He was a soldier, brave and strong,
He said that fighting was always wrong,
1914 was the year,
All the torture was unfair,
He was sick of it, sick of war,
Then my Grandma walked through the door,
She said it’s insane,
All the pain,
Bombs falling from the sky,
Soldiers dying constantly, it really makes me cry,
Now we’re here, happy and safe,
But for what? For winners sake?
All we want is to be friends,
Will all the fighting ever end?