Old Timer
I don't think I can livethrough another warI've sent all my letters homewardtoo many times beforeCrouching in the trenchesshivering and sorepraying to God and askingwhy He don't love us anymoreI tell my children they must thinkbefore they get their gunplease remember all your birthdaysthen mix them into oneEvery birth is gloriousevery moment there hides funalready you're victoriousevery mother daughter son