Anti-War Correspondent

At the start of the next war, While the headlines scream "war, war, war", Go fit a lens to your gun's barrel And a reel of film in its magazine. It would be a better war—don't you agree?— If all the innocents soon to face your gun Froze in a pose Anticipating the shots to come: Shots of them, I mean, Not shots at them! When the order comes to open fire That'll be the time to peer through your gun sight Ready to take to the field of battle And go clicking away At the follies of men in war, The corporate vultures circling above, And all the lies, lies, lies about the war. For where blood spills, There truth must spill too; But oft in war, it's the pills we get To cloud our eyes and dim our minds. Then, perhaps, we'll someday learn Why our boys and girls who march forth to war Never do really as of old return. The heroes of a thousand battles Retreat to a thousand bottles At the doctor's and the barman's. Who we call survivors And whom we call casualties Their fates ultimately come equal: One falls in the battlefield, The other in the bottle-field— But fall they all do, they all do, O lord!