Where are my sweetest dreams, where are my happy memories, where are my dearest friends,
If I could light a candle for each lost friend, it would be a huge inferno, would this be hell,
Could there enough wax, in this wretched angry world, to make candles for all our lost souls,
If there were wax, would there be sufficient forests for matches to light so many candles,
And will there be a day when one man is left, he would have nobody to fight, nor to kill.
Would it be the last day of the Great War, would that man sit listening to birds singing,
And if he listened to the birdsong, would it be a song about the brutal stupidity of man,
Or would it be nightingales singing sad songs, so very sad songs, your heart would break,
Could the last man live on with his broken heart, the losses, and the horrors of the war,
And if that man walked back home would he be given a white feather because he did not die.
Would he be called lazy if he did not dig many millions of graves to bury our dead hero's,
Before each burial would he take a last letter from everyone's pockets and send them home,
If he did would he pencil footnotes of how brave the son was, the husband was, the father was,
Would his gallant lies be justified and give solace to the millions of grieving families,
And would there be that many wooden pencils because the forest were felled to make matches.