Remember Me.
I watched you marching past today,
November light your hair showed grey
Children called as they ran alongside,
I saw the pride in your wife’s brown eyes.
The years are long and the ground is cold,
I watch you march with the old and bold,
Remember me, remember me.
Do you remember me?
You’re happy now as you march on by.
You promised to return I saw the lie.
You loved me then, do you love me now?
True brothers bound in blood and war
The years are long and the ground is cold,
I watch you march with the old and bold,
Remember me, remember me.
Do you remember me?
You held me tight - the blood still flowed,
I died you left me by the road.
Our medals worn with pride attest,
To heroes who fought with the best.
The years are long and the ground is cold,
I watch you march with the old and bold,
Remember me, remember me.
Do you remember?
***
Old Friend
Is it wrong that I should weep
To say goodbye my friend?
Should I stand firm and hold my grief
And still a quivering lip?
Right to stand among the strong
Display my manly power
And watch the passing of your life
Without a tearful shower?
Should I burst and sob and cry
Reveal my sense of loss
And let the world see how it is
To show a brother’s love?
Or will I cause real men to blush
And raise their signs to hush?
***
Sound over battle
There’s a sound hangs over battle
When the fight is done and won
There’s a sound hangs over battle
That can’t be made a song
There’s a sound hangs over battle
In both vict’ry and defeat
It makes no bloody difference
It’s bitter never sweet!
The singing of the mountains and the rain upon my face
The fading light of evening marks a place of holy grace
Of ground that holds our men and boys who followed in the chase
To sons, and brothers, friends and foes who lost the violent race.
There’s a sound hangs over battle
When the ground’s no longer red
There’s a sound hangs over battle
Unheard by those abed.
There’s a sound hangs over battle
That few men would want to share
There’s a sound hangs over battle
It’s heard by those who dare.
The singing of the mountains and the rain upon my face
The fading light of evening marks a place of holy grace
Of ground that holds our men and boys who followed in the chase
To sons, and brothers, friends and foes who lost the violent race.
There’s a sound hangs over battle
The crows and vultures know
There’s a sound hangs over battle
Where no caw nor bark can grow.
There’s a sound hangs over battle
That few will ever hear
There’s a sound hangs over battle
Called the silence after fear.
The singing of the mountains and the rain upon my face
The fading light of evening marks a place of holy grace
Of ground that holds our men and boys who followed in the chase
To sons, and brothers, friends and foes who lost the violent race.
***
‘When you go home
Tell them of us and say
For your tomorrow
We gave our today.’
