Twice Struck
There he lay, mouldering,
We thought him buried well.
But there he was, unearthed.
Again, struck by a shell.
It was though they killed him twice,
Oh how the devil played.
We buried him but a week ago,
And we will again today.
But I had no time to grieve
The dying, of my friend.
We were busy dodging shells,
Would this madness never end.
But if it finally does,
And by some miracle, I'm saved.
I'll come back and find him,
With flowers for his grave.
For always he'll be with me,
All throughout my life.
A truer friend I never had,
A friend, I buried twice.
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