They always seem to cry for mum
They always seem to call for Mum
They always seem to call for Mum
Out there in the mud.
They always seem to cry ‘help-mum’.
When they’re out there dying.
They’re all quite young but won’t grow old.
Their country called. They came to help.
And now they’re dying, crying, cold.
And no one’s helping them.
Their cries grow dim. Not long now.
Soon it will be silent.
And tomorrow comes around again.
Another bloody battle.
Another fight, another night.
Another night of crying.
Another night of dying.
And they always seem to call for Mum
Out there in the mud.
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