July sky, Bayonets high Gut wrench Ribs to trench Red fabric flies Poems in coat, Letters written hope... Rendezvous in smoke never to go home Épées and éclats, Lead and medals Holding breath, And then... Charge the men. Five yards, ten yards, Twenty men stop and drop Poppies, Smoke bloom, Ten then pop Ohhh Name on his mother’s hand. Carved in heart and land. Hold his own, Oh oh But the train won’t bring him home July sky, Bayonets high Gut wrench Ribs to trench Red fabric flies Poems in coat, Letters written hope... Rendezvous in smoke Never to go home
