The Dead the Brave the True
Their faces he’ll no longer see
Their lives were lived then gone
Players in the game of death
The brave, the dead, the pawns
How many mothers cry these days?
How many still aren’t the same
Two armies fighting each other
In this massive death filled game?
Tracers flying in and out
Eyes searching with all their might
Boys fighting for all they were worth
These combatants in a prize fight
The silence of the dawn has come
And bodies are all they see
Friends now gone to their graves
In this land with no boundaries
Now his time has come to leave
As he boards his homeward flight
He salutes his last salute to those
Who came not back from this fight
His mind goes back to yester years
Every now and again these days
And death comes visiting in his dreams
Of those rice fields and killing ways
He sees those eyes, he hears those cries
But there’s nothing he can do
The wall of names reach out to him
The dead, the brave, the true
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