Why not try a war out for size,
Shrunken hopes and politicians’ lies
In their thoughts, their feeble thoughts, butchered with their own ambitions of a better world, a better life
they scream: ‘in blood and gore we live and dream’
Solemn minds, decaying with the burden of what they have seen.

Exit stage left one friend, right the other
Until each comrade is returned to their mother
In a box, stapled and plastered and coated with bone and bloody remnants of their own
‘Please do not send our husbands, sons, brothers home –
In that box.’

Why the mass termination?
Why not go out yourselves for your nation?
We do not see you on the front lines
Instead you hide, behind
your status you reside,
I do find, that if we sent you all out
And them all out, very few would die, and there would still be a winner, and there would still be a loser,
And a lot less bloodshed
And a few less tears.