Lovely Spring morning. The soft air is stirred
With perfume of flowers and singing of birds,
While low on the hillside, slumbering deep,
Far from the echo of slow trampling feet;
Far from the smoke, the roar and the dim;
Far from the battlefield bloody and grim;
Sleeping at last the sleep of the just;
Slowly and surely returning to dust.
Reverently, tenderly, bow now our heads.
Today we are honoring our soldier dead.
Honoring now with music and flowers
Those who have fallen in war's darkest hours,
Those who have suffered in anguish and pain;
Fought, bled and died for a cause all in vain.
Thought they were fighting that all wars might cease;
Thought they were fighting to create world peace.
Poor wasted manhood; sacrificed life.
All that you gave never ended the strife.
Sleep, sweetly sleep, poor deluded young men.
You'll never fight for the bosses again.
Each of you had but one young life to give.
You are far safer than those boys who still live.
Steadily, surely the war clouds again
Gather around all the kingdoms of men,
Stealthily, steadily, building in haste
Every device that will torture and waste.
Battleships, air fleets and armies galore
Made to destroy life as never before.
Sleep buddies sleep; we grieve not for thee.
You are at rest; your souls now are free.
Never again will you bend to the will
Of masters and monarchs, you'll be sleeping still.
So if your poor souls find forgiveness above
and from blame you're absolved and the Master of Love
"Meets out" to the "rascals" who had you all slain,
Will you intercede for the ones that remain?
And ask God to punish the makers of war
And send not your brothers to death as you are.
Many a soldier, sore wounded in fight,
Lived to become a most pitiful sight.
Broken in body and withered in mind;
Oh it is dreadful the suffering we find.
Crippled and sick, not able to work,
Trying and trying, for none wishing to shirk.
Scorned and oppressed by the country they served.
Some saying, "That's all they deserve."
Congress won't pay them the wages they earned.
Now when they ask for help they are but spurned.
Sleep, buddies sleep, you're far happier than they.
Thank your dear stars that you too didn't stay.
Wave, stars and stripes are the graves of these lads
They gave up willingly all that they had,
Wading through trenches, through darkness and rain.
How did they know they were fighting in vain?
But to satisfy greedy ambitions of men.
Dear Old Flag, you really should be proud of them
So may the soft breezes of Summer unfold
Your soft stars and stripes o'er these hearts of pure gold.
To your majestic colors these boys were all true.
Old Glory, they thought they were fighting for you.
So sleep buddies, sleep, while we pile high the flowers.
Bugles are blowing since dawns early hours.
For you we're not shedding one tear of regret.
Our sympathy's going to those who live yet.
We know that the hour is drawing at hand
When armies are gathering in every land
And our boys who are living will be forced again
To fight for the world's greedy old despots, and then
God pity us all; and shut out of sight.
Be glad you're not here. Fare well buddies, Goodnight.
