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There he stood alone and cold in the dark bare streets
Dressed in rags from hand me downs, & carrier bags on his feet
The hustle of the daily grind constantly passes by
But still he stands & never speaks, or even bats an eye
No-one noticing where he stands or even who he is!
This young homeless soldier now back from war & living on the street
Ten years ago it was different when he left to go to war
Just a boy of 18 was he, when he left his homely shore
A proud mother waved her son goodbye with tears of pride & pain
Not knowing when she will ever see her child, her son again
With pride he saluted his country's flag as he ran with guns & knives
Knowing by the end of the day he would have started taking lives
He saw the death around him, the faces etched in fear
But still he had to shoot that gun until he was given the all clear
The images stayed inside his head for years & years to come
The memories of having to shoot little kids that were using loaded guns
They haunted him all through the day even when he closed his eyes
The sights & the sounds, that were left behind made him unable to live his life
The boys they couldn't help him, he was seen as damaged goods
Kicked from the only life he knew cos his hands could no longer shoot
The life in civvy street was hard, the rules of the game had changed 
No orders, no friends, no arms, no men his days were not the same
The normal life just didn't compare to the life he had to serve
His team became just him alone, his orders left unheard
So from the place he stayed, he left & went to that homely shore
No mum to wave him off this time, no fleet to sail anymore
So rocks in carrier bags he filled, & tied them to his feet
Then walked they way his boat had sailed, when he had first joined the fleet
Nobody even missed him, as he walked into that sea
Returning to the life he knew, the deaths, the war, the team
So now on a lonely street he stands, this statue so proud and tall
A silent cold stone soldier representing the men that died for us all
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