To reason why.

Perhaps sometimes someone has to ask the reason why.

To reason why.

One night the King lay dreaming,
of England’s wars gone by,
he climbed aboard a hurricane,
and to Trafalgar Square did fly.

T’was in the Month of November
and at the eleventh day.
when the ghosts of England’s war dead rise,
and slowly make their way.

back to the Isles they loved so much,
they’d fought and fallen for,
drawn by love across the world,
they come from distant shores,

To fill the streets of England,
this cold determined throng,
all standing to attention,
Some sixty million strong.

They come from the beaches of Normandy,
the Crimean and the Somme,
from Burma, Holland, Africa,
the list goes on and on.

Some stand in Navy blue,
or scarlet coats with tricorn hats,
some stand in olive green,
or highland kilts and Bergen packs.

Some their bodies not complete,
missing limbs and torn,
some appear as only pieces,
of what once was human form.

The King in his dream then found himself,
at the foot of Lord Nelson’s stand.
he felt a chill run down his spine,
as if touched by ghostly hands,

He heard the words,

we fought them on the beaches,
we fought them in the air,
he turned around to see the ghost,
of Winston Churchill standing there.

A shadowy figure leaves his column,
the streets of London fill with ghosts,
all standing to attention.
a solemn and disciplined host.

Lord Nelson strode up to the King,
removed his hat bowed low,
began to speak in earnest tones,
“Your Royal Highness hear me now”

For a hundred and fifty years all passed,
I’ve stood on this lofty place,
the time has come for me to speak,
take note, the tears upon my face.

I see England governed by a host of fools,
more waiting in the wings.
streets not safe for men or women,
police not bothered by these things.

What happened to Britannia,
she no longer rules the waves,
burdened with debt and taxes,
Britains now not more than slaves.

Those all here who died for England,
who neath the sod do rot unseen.
have risen up today to ask,
what does sacrifice now mean.

Do we wait again for the eleventh hour,
that our island might be saved,
that those here before you now,
return with honour to our graves.

Lord Nelson said “Your Majesty,
of you, this I do implore,
would you speak up now and tell these ghosts,
what the hell they were all fighting for."