Found an old bedside tablet from a few years ago; I had scrawled something, shortly after waking, without benefit of light.
Our troops still fight in old men's wars, hurrah, hurrah
fodder for drones and cannonballs, hurrah, hurrah
They come back blind, they come back lame; their lives will never be the same
We must be mad to keep sending our youth to war
When you left you were proud and tall, hurrah, hurrah
Your goal was "Freedom for one and all," hurrah, hurrah
You may be living on the street, at times you don't have enough to eat
And in many ways, you never came home at all
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