Have you ever listened… truly listened,
To all those echoes from the past,
All of those reverberations of man,
For a longer time they will last.
Like the whistle of the bomb over London,
Hurtling towards its’ almighty end,
To the guns of Navarone,
And their huge shells they did send.
The smoking carcasses of the tanks,
Rusting in the sands of the Nile,
And the rolling war machines,
Crushing with its cunning guile.
There are also the screams,
Screams of the dead calling out,
This is what we remember once a year,
To those that fought the kraut.
Can you hear the sounds,
Of the explosions today,
As we take it unto the breach dear friends,
And once more unto the fray.
As the bagpipes sing and the bugles play,
This is what I can hear,
To the memories of echoes of long time past,
Raise your glass of a gentle beer.
In the end all is silence… true silence,
Underneath the bustle of humanity,
Through the times of absolution,
And the times of insanity.
