la colombe (the dove)

Lyrics

why all these bugles cry, these squads of young men drill, to kill and to be killed, stood waiting by the train, why the orders loud and hoarse, why the engine's groaning cough, as it strains to drag us all, into the holocaust, why crowds who sing and cry, and shout and fling us flowers, and trade their rights for ours, to murder and to die, the dove has torn her wing, so no more songs of love, we are not here to sing, we're here to kill the dove, why must this moment come, when childhood has to die, when hope shrinks to a sigh, and speech into a drum, why are they pale and still, young boys trained over night, concripts payed to kill, and dressed in gray to fight, these rainclouds massing tight, this train load battle bound, this moving burial ground, goes thundering to the night, why statues towering grave, above the last defeat, old words and lies repeat, across a new made grave, and why the same still birds, that victory always brought, these hours of glory bought, by men with mounds of earth, dead ash without a spark, where cities used to be, where guns probe every spark, and crush it into dust, and while your face undone, with jagged lines of tears, that gave in those first years, all the peace i'd ever want, your body in the gloom, the platform fading back, your shadow on the track, a flower upon a tomb, and why these days ahead, when i must let you cry, and live prepared to die, and to.