Armistice Day in the rain 2018

Armistice Day in the Rain 2018

Nineteen fourteen – All quiet the trench, can’t even hear the bleedin’ French.
That shell came in so blinding fast-where are my mates, where’s Jack, I said?
Scattered in that screaming blast—Sorry, he’s dead. We found his head.
Only the silence of the slain. Only the patter of the rain.

Nineteen sixteen – we stumble through, our ankles sticking in the mud,
Clutching the stretcher bearing you; and everywhere the smell of blood.
Let’s get you to the dressings tent and give you something for the pain.
No silence here, the air is rent with moans and groans and pouring rain.

I had to get that bleedin’ gun, just something that I had to do;
Picking our lads off one by one. I picked him off, and others too.
But at some cost, my leg’s not there, I cannot breathe, I have some pain.
The battlefield at None-knows-where, a wounded soldier in the rain.

One hundred years ago today the guns fell silent.  Heads of State
Remember those who passed away. They stand in rain to meditate.
But it seems that one is missing, does not hear the bugles blow-
One on their parade is pissing; how could someone stoop so low?

The President of USA has said he won’t be here today.
In his hotel he will remain.  His precious hair, you see. The rain.