War is painful, and it will last.
It will not be a blast.
In fact, it'll be worse than that.
Blood in the wet mud,
The trenches with the floods.
Dead bodies everywhere you step.
The boots of the soldiers in the depth.
My soldier came home from war.
He was broken, so I took him in my door.
I heard cries in the night,
So I went to comfort my little light.
He smiled at me, and I saw his eyes.
They were full of sorrow, I could see through his guise.
He was sad, so I made him better.
But he needed someone to pay his debtor.
So I did, and when I came back,
I found him in the bathtub, covered in black.
I checked his pulse, and he was gone,
I knew I was just a pawn.
But I knew he was there in my heart,
Me and my son would never part.
