For whom do the bells toll
When sentenced to die
The stuttering rifles
Will stifle the cry
The monstrous anger
The fear´s rapid rattle
A desert inferno
Kids dying like cattle
Don´t tell me
We are not prepared
I have seen today is marine
He has eighteen & he has eager
He can be quite mean
No mock´ries for them
No prayers or bells
The demented choirs
The wailing of shells
The boys holding candles
On untraveled roads
The fear spreads like fire
As shrapnel explodes
I think it is wrong
To conscript our youth
Against their will
When plenty of our citizenry
Really like to kill
What sign posts will lead
To armageddon´s fires
What bugles will call them
From crowded grey shires
The women sit quiet
With death on their minds
A slow dusk descending
The drawing of blinds
Make the hunters all line up
It is their idea of fun
And let those be forgiven
Who never owned a gun
Was it him or me
Or the wailing of the dead
The laughing soldiers
Cast their lots
And you can cut the dread
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