for 11/11

In cold dark dawn of Flanders,
Battle lines are drawn
On this most fateful of days
Amidst the sound of silence
A solitary piper plays

Here we go lads
Its time, its now
Check your aim and see
The bayonet I’m unsheathing
Be in you not me

Bullets they go flying
Over the top
Running fast
O Lord of mercy, he cries
Let this day not be my last

The bullet that tore through him
Never heard that prayer
And so
in a field in Flanders
We see him still lying there.

There is a way these wars can end
The Sargent told his son
Make the politicians
Come fight
Under Flanders sun